The Meaning of secrets
by Chantale23
Summary: Set at the end of serie 10, this is my first posting and I'm doing it in English as a second language. I love spooks, love Harry and Ruth. I was really torn with the end to the serie, so I'm not having it and changing the outcome. As I'm a sucker for happy ending, this is going to be ultimately a happy story.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first time writing anywhere and my first time writing in English. I didn't like the way the serie ended, so I'm picking up from there and keep on going. I just can't accept they weren't meant to be together.

**The meaning of secrets.**

Chapter 1

It is said that at the moment of death you see your life pass in front of your eyes, like a replay of one's life.

_I must not be dying._ Went through her mind.

At first Ruth thought she was dying but then the pictures in her mind weren't of her life. She had never shared a life with Harry and all her thoughts were of him, his eyes, his smile, his gentle face. She saw pictures of him and of them together. He behind her, bent over her shoulder looking at her computer screen. She, shivering under the caress of his voice, lost in the smell of him, this indefinable smell of his skin, so unique. Eau de Harry. She mentally smiles. She could pick up his smell amongst thousands of others. She saw the image of him making tea for her in her kitchen. Felt like a life ago. She could feel his hand on the small of her back. She could feel the warmth, the way his finger would lightly dig in her skin... probably just a trick of her mind.

_I love him so much._

She remembers her hand touching his, squeezing his arm gently and it fills her with longing.

_How can I want him if I'm dying. Impossible._

She had lived the last 10 years, her body alive and defined by desires, all of Harry. She wanted all of him. The gentle crooked smile he only had for her, his eyes in hers telling her the words that couldn't cross the barrier of his lips. She wanted a life with him, wanted to fall asleep to his voice, waking up to his kisses. She wanted all these ordinary things she had dreamed of but never dared asking for.

Washing dishes with him, going to a movie, shopping, looking at him across the table, laughing and smiling. All the little mundane things that all couples do. She wanted them… yearned for them. She had dreams of a life with him, of belonging. She simply wanted to be with him.

They could be more together.

_I'm not dying; these are not from my life. These are my dreams, my fantasies_.

She was lost in the moment, looking at the pictures across her eye lids. Her heart wasn't hammering in her breasts as it had before… her breathing wasn't laboured, she didn't feel pain.

_Am I dead? I can't be. I can't leave him… not so close to being with him._

As she had closed her eyes, she had felt his lips on hers, his sweet lips wet with tears. Now she could hear him cry, she could feel his body close to her, calling her to him… and the wretched sobbing against her ear.

_Our third kiss. He loves me. I feel it in his kiss. _

She had to talk to him… to tell him she was still with him, not to despair.

_Don't cry my love. I'm here. _

She couldn't form the words, couldn't find her voice. She couldn't comfort him and reassure him. She could only listen to the anguish in his tears falling against her temple. She tried with all she had to say the words but couldn't, so she tried to send him her thoughts.

_I love you Harry, I love you. We will be together. I was wrong. We are meant to be together, my love._

She had been so wrong. Nothing wonderful in unsaid words. She wanted to say the words to him. Three simple little words with a life of meaning in them.

_God. How I love you Harry. It's not enough anymore to love you from afar. I want to tell you Harry, but I just can't... I can't now, but I will heal. I will be brave and I will tell you. I have to. For you. For me. For us. _

She heard voices around her, voices she knew, some she didn't. She sensed something prickling the skin of her arm, hands pressing on her chest and then there was pain.

"I got a pulse" a disembodied voice was shouting over the other voices.

_Oh my God! The pain. Make it stop, stop the pain, please. I can't breathe._

Her body was being moved, lifted and she lost the touch of his hand replace by others.

_Noooo! Harry stay with me. Don't leave me. Please Harry._

She felt his hand on her forehead and heard his voice strangely calm but insistent.

"Ruth, I'm here, don't give up. Please Ruth, fight for us… Come back to me. Fight. I know you can. Don't leave me. I can't live without you. We'll have a life together."

"Sir, you have to move." Said the voice.

"I have to stay with her" Harry's voice was full of fear.

"Sir… move. NOW!" The first voice had come back harsh and hard.

She felt his touch leave her but heard his voice from a few feet.

"Tell me how not to be in your way, but I AM STAYING WITH HER." His tone had hardened; the fear in it had left. It was his 'do not argue with me' voice. She wanted to smile but her lips wouldn't obey.

She felt her body lifted and the sun was gone from her face. The wind wasn't cooling her body anymore. She had been moved inside something; noisy and cramped… she felt that.

"Fine. Sit over there and let me work." The hard voice talked again.

She couldn't feel Harry anymore and she was terrified but then heard his voice again. His reassuring voice gripping her to him.

"Ruth. Don't give up. We are meant to have those things. Fight for your life, Ruth. You have to live, please. Don't let go… You can't let go. Think of your house… and all the changes you'll make. Where will you put all your books? How will the cats like their new house?"

He kept on talking as if his words were her lifeline. He just let them cascade from his mouth, without much thought about their meaning. He was just so desperate to keep her with him.

_Yes Harry! We will have these things. We'll fill the house with my books and your music. The cats will be happy to be back with Scarlett again. They miss her. _

She relaxed, the pain was leaving her. She wasn't afraid. She felt a great calm come over her

The voice came back "I'm losing her again. Pads. CLEAR!"

Harry whispered a single word. "Nooo..." She almost didn't hear it before darkness took over and she lost herself in it.


	2. Chapter 2

This chapter is all about Harry POV on Ruth's death. I'm keeping with the serie, just adding what I believe his internal dialogue would be. Harry has always been driven by his guilt and his failures. How far could they take him.

At the end of chapter one, Ruth has just flat lined and Harry was with her.

**Chapter 2**

Harry didn't bother calling in that day. They would know the reason for his absence.

He felt hollow, like all the world's happiness had suddenly vanished, like the sun would never shine again. All the small details that make one's step lighter, one's lips spread in a smile, they were all gone. Something in him had broke, shattered. He wasn't himself… all over the place… scattered to the winds.

He had to find her. Ironically, he needed her to go through her death. He had left her looking for her.

Early this morning, he had called MI-5 and had ordered her name to be added on the Memorial. At first they had refused. No death certificate yet. He had insisted, pushing the weight of Sir Harry Pearce around. He wanted everyone to know that she had sacrificed her life protecting others… even if it was for him.

After handing up, he came out of the hospital, got in his car and started driving, without a clear path or destination. He drove for about an hour when he realized he was on his way to Suffolk, to the house she pictured them living in.

He stopped at a café along the road, checked the internet and found the add for the house with the green peeling door. He looked up the real-estate agent and requested a viewing for later that morning and he drove. Finding the house, he walked the street leading to it. He looked at the outside and pain rushed through his body. It took all he had to put one foot in front of the other and follow the woman in, but he did because he hoped to find her there.

The house was full of light. He could picture her cooking, laughing, sitting across from him having tea, smiling. It was the perfect house. He heard her voice in his mind asking him to live in this house with her and it was just too much, he couldn't take it. He wasn't ready to find her. Not ready to heal. He turned around and left. Back in the car he drove back to London. He listened to the Home Secretary's message.

How was he supposed to know what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go… what he wanted to be? All he knew was his grief, the gut wrenching pain of losing her, the void her death had left behind.

He felt overwhelmed with the need to talk. He needed to tell someone about her. The woman whom he loved and had died.

He dialled Catherine's phone number. It rang a few times and she picked up. "Catherine." His voice was hoarse.

As soon as she heard him say her name, she knew something was horribly wrong. "Dad?"

His tearful voice answered: "I need you Catherine. Can you come to the house? I… I… really need to talk to you. Can I see you please?"

"Dad… I'll be there in 15." She did not hesitate.

"Actually, I'm about an hour and a half from London. Will you be there when I arrive? I don't want to be alone."

Catherine was shocked. Her father, to her knowledge, had never ask anyone for help, had never needed anyone, had never wanted not to be left alone.

"I will Dad. I will be there." She hesitated a little before asking. "Do you want me to stay on the line while you drive back?"

"Thank you, Sweetheart, I'll be fine. I need to focus on the driving. I'm not all there and…" He took a deep breath before adding. "Thank you so much Catherine. For being… for me... I don't..."

"It's ok Dad, just be careful and get home. Ok."

"Yes… ok, I will see you then."

"Bye Dad"

He hung up. He needed to see his daughter. He just needed to talk about Ruth. He never had before, never said her name out loud. She had been another secret but now he couldn't let her die a secret. He had never spoke of his love for her. It was all bottled up inside and it was fighting to come out... to explode.

When he arrived, he parked his car and got out to cross the road. He looked at the porch to his house and stopped dead in the middle of the street. Catherine and Graham were sitting on the stairs to his door. Both his children were there. He had been an absent father. He had missed so many of their important days but they were here, now, for him. He felt humble and guilty, proud and sad… a little more scattered.

Graham was there. His son. The son he had not seen in years was here for him. He didn't deserve them. He felt overwhelmed with regrets, guilt and a sense of worthlessness. Standing in the middle of the street, tears started running down his face. He kept on walking.

Graham looked at his sister completely shocked. Catherine grabbed her brother's hand and walked up to her father. When she reached Harry, she folded her arms in his. Looking at Graham, her eyes telling him to take the other arm, they slowly walked up to the door.

Catherine's soothing voice was whispering to him. "It's ok Dad. We're here, it will be ok. We'll get you inside to a good cup of tea. Sweet tea, it will make you feel better. A cup of sweet tea, that's what you need."

Hearing the words Harry's legs almost gave up from under him and he started sobbing, his body bent as if he had been punched in the stomach.

_Sweet tea, that's what you need._

He had said those very words to her. If only he had taken her more seriously, he might have been able to protect her. They might have come together three years earlier. How different would their life have been? She might not have died.

Graham met his sister's eyes over their father's back. What could be so terrible to break Harry Pearce to this point?

They went inside, sat him down and he started talking. He couldn't explain why but the valve had opened and he couldn't close it again. He talked and talked and his children listened.

He told them of Ruth. He talked for hours. About the first day she came in the meeting room and the not remotely funny joke he had made. He told them how his feelings had changed over time. He spoke of their kiss on the dock. His most prized memory. He went on about her years of exile, the death of George and the loss of Nico, her return, how he had kissed her before being taken by the CIA. His second most prized memory of them. The feel of her lips under his. A taste of heaven he would never taste again.

He revealed all the pain he had inflicted upon her and how in the end she still wanted to be with him, still loved him. He told them about the house, about how wonderful their life could have been.

They just listened to him; both children overcome by the words and the emotions pouring out of the man, they thought didn't have a heart. Their hands ran down his back, held his hand, hugged him closely when tears were too powerful for him to talk. Filling glasses after glasses of water to offset all the tears he shed.

Their father, the formidable Harry Pearce, the man they had hated as teenagers, despised as adults, was tormented with sorrow, his humanity was lashing out. The realisation made them feel guilty for having crossed him out of their lives so lightly, akin to a single wave of the hand. It was obvious that their father wasn't without a heart. It was the opposite; his emotions ran deep. He was just very good at hiding them... hidden not unfelt.

The three of them stayed mashed on the sofa for hours, hurting and healing.

He talked about Ruth, about them, how he had failed with them, with her. He admitted not having any control over himself, over how he felt. He didn't know what to do with all he was feeling.

Hence, that night they started trusting their father, basking in the trust he gave by telling them about the love he had lost. For the first time Harry opened up, really talked. He showed the man he was, his vulnerability, his helplessness.

The past was forgotten temporarily. For that moment in time, resentments were buried. They would surface later, but now wasn't the time for it. They were in the eye of the hurricane, and out of a bottomless pit of desolation, the three of them found a bond.

Much later, Graham and Catherine left, with promises to talk the following day. Catherine didn't want to leave him on his own but Harry convinced her that he felt better from talking to them. After, he closed the door behind his children and looked around… His empty house, his empty life… He felt hollow, like his heart had been pulled out of his chest and he was left empty, unfeeling and yet wrapped in immeasurable pain… life had deserted his lonely existence.

He had to get out. Calling for Scarlet, he took her for a walk. He reached a bench at the edge of the park. He sat down under the shadow of trees in the darkness of the night and he tried to cry, but he felt no tears surface. He was dead inside. There was nothing left but agony. He sat there looking at his dog running around the park, not feeling the cold go through his coat, deadening his body as well.

He had been sitting for over an hour when Scarlett jumped on the bench at his side and push his hand with her nose. She was shivering.

"Poor girl. You're freezing… Let's go home." There was no joy in the words. Going home, going to work, going nowhere… it was all the same to him.

They walked back and entered the house. He locked the door and put the alarm on, took off his coat and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. He was exhausted, cold and weary… too weary to undress. He lied down on top of the duvet, he tried and failed to find sleep.

Ruth's face was all he could see. There was no escaping her face and he wasn't sure he wanted to. He called upon every memory he had of her. Around 5 o'clock, he'd had enough. He felt he was drowning in the depth of dejection. He slowly rose, picked out a suit, a shirt and a tie that he laid on the bed. He would find solace in his work, always had before. He showered, dried himself and put on his dressing gown, before moving to the bathroom sink. Looking at his reflection he felt something swell inside. In the last 5 days, all he had felt was grief, sadness and sorrow and every variation that had tormented him.

Now looking in the mirror, anger and guilt showed up. A strange voice entered his head. His voice but harder, unforgiving, cold… so cold.

_Who are you? You're the man who killed her. That's who you are. The man who didn't protect her. Why didn't you move in front of her? Why didn't you push her away? You should have known it was going to happened. Why didn't you give your sorry life for hers? Such a coward, you'd let a woman die for you. What a waste… and you're to blame._

Before he knew it, his fist hit the mirror breaking it into pieces. Not giving a look or a thought for his hand, he kept on looking at his face, his internal monologue getting relentless.

_You're so pathetic Pearce, it's risible. You are useless, contemptible, you are disgusting. Look at yourself. You can't even cry for her. Look Harry… look carefully. What do you see? Pity? Shame?_

Harry kept his eyes on his reflection. His image was fragmented, such a metaphor for who he was. He felt himself fall, give up...

_That's it Harry, fall into the abyss. Let go. See who you really are. You've never been a complete man, only facets put together under a mask. You know the mask Harry. The one you've been hiding behind for most of your life. The one that kept her from really knowing you... from loving the real Harry. _

He looked again and willed the mask on his face.

_Good boy Harry. Put it up; don't let anyone see how much you're bleeding inside. Don't let them see that you want to die. No point in that Harry. Just set the mask, make it strong and thick, it has to hide all you feel. Yes, just like that, put the mask on._

He saw the mask come up and felt glad that it was in place. No signs of his internal turmoil showed on his face. Once he felt the mask would stay in place, he started shaving.

Dead inside but closely shaved. Harry Pearce 101.

Harry got dress, going through the motion like any other morning, just a little slower and his step a little heavier. He went down to the kitchen. He just felt like throwing up. The clock read 6:30. He called the car and waited. Nausea tightened his throat. His thoughts were merciless. He felt like someone was trying to destroy him from inside out.

_You monster… you killed her. You don't deserve to live. Why don't you just off yourself. You'd do the world a favour. You killed her! Your fault. You lost her Harry, you couldn't protect her and you lost her. You are nothing but a feeble old man. Settle this Harry. Her life for your life. _

The car arrived and he kept his internal monologue, looking perfectly in control to the rest of the world. _"You let her die, Harry. You killed her. You don't deserve to breathe, to live." _He had to fight his body from vomiting_._

Nobody would perceived the torment that was his. The mask was in place. Only 'she' would have been able to read him, to know something was terribly wrong with Harry Pearce.

Arriving at Thames House he found himself walking down the stairs to the memorial, the voice now screaming in his head .

S_he's dead! You need to see it. She died to protect you… a second time. Time to see it for real. Go look at her name. YOU put it there!_

He looked at all the names lost to the Service. He stopped before her name. He couldn't lift his eyes, couldn't look at her name.

"_Look at it Harry. Here she is… just a name on a wall. _

There were rain drops sliding along the wall, like all the tears shed for each of the names, suspended in mid-air in a locked room, hidden away… a secret.

"LOOK AT HER NAME!"

Finally he looked up, seeing her name written on glass. The mask hid the horror he felt at seeing her name. He felt sick, the nausea hit him so hard, he felt dizzy.

_Ruth. I miss you so much. I'm lost __without you. I can't stand myself. I want to be with you, my Ruth. I want to die my love, to be with you. Too many deaths, too many losses, I can't do it anymore._

The voice shut him up, snickering, delighted with his thoughts.

"_You're right Harry, you can't do it anymore. Such a coward Harry... to the end. Death is the easy way but the only way for you now. You just can't do it without her."_

Then slowly a soft and loving voice rose, silencing his thoughts.

_No Harry. I died out of love for you. I loved you more than my life. Please don't make my sacrifice a mistake. Think of Catherine and Graham. They would be devastated now that they found you again. Live Harry. Live to see your children marry, to see your grandchildren. Live Harry. For me?_

_Ruth. I'm not sure I can. I want the pain to stop. I want to be with you. I'm so tired._

_Harry, it's not your time. You have to live. For me, please Harry. You have to do it. That's all I'm asking you. In memory of me… for me, Harry… choose life._

_I'll try Ruth, for you I will. _

Almost like a gentle kiss on his face he heard the soft voice again.

_Thank you my love._


	3. Chapter 3

Another chapter keeping with what happened in the tv show. I needed to take it right to the end that we were given… up to the last image of the last episode.

After this third chapter, I'm not bound by the serie anymore. I can start having fun with the characters. After this chapter, you won't know what will happened. I'm not sure I know myself.

Hope you enjoy, reviews are appreciated.

At the end of Chapter two, Ruth is dead and Harry is struggling.

**Chapter 3**

By 8:00 Harry is back on the Grid. His mask is well in place and as he walks through the Grid to his office. He's not aware of his team looks of concerns. He's oblivious to everything but keeping his mask in place. No one can see, can know. He sits down at his desk, trying to contain his grief. He needs to work to distract himself, if only for a minute. He needs to take his mind somewhere that isn't her or he'll go mad.

_Ruth my love. I can't, I just can't live without you. How can I go on." _He doesn't have the energy, the will, to go on. His sense of duty is overwhelmed by the despair that fills his heart, the sense of loss that inhabits his being and his soul_. _He's just so tired.

Over 20 years in the Service. He had wanted to leave with her because he knew he had had enough, but up until then, he didn't know what he would do with his life, so he had kept on working. When she asked him to leave, she had offered him an alternative, a life outside the Service, she had reminded him he wasn't only his job. For a very short moment, he had pictured himself being happy, with her. He had thought of the Grand Tour they could take together. After all she had been the only person he had wanted to go with… for years.

Now he's back at the job. No alternative, no life outside, No Ruth. He had no prospect for a different future. He would stay a few more years and die of a heart attack or at the hand of his revengeful past, maybe a bomb. His children would morn him for a little while. Life goes on.

8:03. First LAR day… Life after Ruth. He's sitting at this desk, he hasn't moved yet, hasn't start working. He is just back, physically within the Grid, back in his office, mask in place. He IS only his job now.

He remembers the morning before, a cold hospital room, Ruth on life support with no chance of coming out of the vegetative state she was in.

He remembers.

When the helicopter had landed, she had been rushed to the operating room. He had been waiting for hours. Waiting. Hoping. Praying.

The doctor had come out to tell him she was alive and had been transferred to the ICU. The tear in her lung had been repaired but she was in a coma and on life support. He had never known such relief. But it was short lived.

A few hours later, they told him and there had been little brain activity when she had come in, but now there was none. She was in a vegetative state. She was not going to wake up. There was no pulse, no breaths, nothing anymore. She was dead.

This was the woman he loved more than life itself and she was dead. He had moved to her room and stayed by her side. He had to try to convince himself she was not coming back; he had to make himself crush the hope that had been growing in him for a few hours.

That first day, as the Doctors told him she was dead, his heart had chipped here and there, not yet convinced she was gone forever. The second day, lines had started to appear. No pulse, no brain activity. The third day, one of the doctors had come in, telling him that he was her emergency contact and that she had made a living will. The lines had gotten deeper, slowly cracking his hurting heart.

Late that night, the Doctor had gently started to talk about terminating life support, that there was no hope, nothing more could be done. No pulse, no breath, no brain activity. It was up to him to decide, to see that her last wish was granted.

His heart had broken right in that instant. First in two pieces, then again in four and finally, as Harry gave his consent to the finality of her death, his heart shattered like mousseline glass, in pieces as small as grains of sand with no hopes of ever being glued back together.

He spent the rest of the night with her... his first night with her… his last.

He had kissed Ruth's lips, her forehead and her cheeks. He had laid in bed beside her, feeling the warmth of her body against his. _She's not dead, she's just sleeping. _But he knew he was lying to himself.

His hand had been running on the skin of her arms, so soft. He had never known such softness. He had held her hand, so small in his. He had held her in his arms, lost in the irony that she had to die for him to be allowed to hold her. Gently, he had lifted her eye lids because he needed to see them, one last time… to see her beautiful blue eyes. He had broken down in tears, his head against her neck, he had cried for her, for the solitude that would be his life without her, for all the dreams that were now out of reach.

He had held her against his chest, sobs going through his body. "I love you. Always will, Ruth." He had whispered. "If God exists, you will be there when I die and you will take my hand in yours, never letting go of it, for eternity. Rest now, rest my love. I miss you my beloved Ruth."

Early morning on the fourth day, he had pulled himself from the embrace. He had to move on. Not from her, never from her. He just had to start functioning. He had to take a first step into living without her. He couldn't stay in this room, with her being… not being… He had wished to stay like this forever, would have been content to just hold her forever... but he knew he couldn't.

He had gotten up and had stood by her bed, looking at her face, memorizing every infinitesimal detail. Once he had had her picture burned into his mind, he had turned around and left the room without looking back.

With the first light of day, Harry had taken his first step. A walking dead for a living death.

Back in the present, he looks at his desk, lost, tapping his finger, one quick tap, a longer one and another quick tap. One letter R. One word, Ruth. She would never answer his call. He had killed her; the machines had been stopped on his words.

He shivers; he wants to cry but feels glad the mask is still well in place. The phone starts to ring. Harry still looks straight ahead. That's all he has left, this desk, this place, this job… this phone. After 6 rings, he picks up, making sure his voice doesn't waver, he simply says:

"Harry Pearce."


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you so much for all the wonderfully positive reviews. I'm giddy every time I get a new one. Thank you for appreciating this first effort in writing. Reviews are more than welcome, they are needed as they inspire and provoke thoughts and put them into words, sentences, chapters… Keep writing them please.

I believe a tragic shock may alter someone's personality, if only temporarily. I also believe happy shocks can do the same. From one extreme to the other in a short time, how does anyone know how they would react? Happiness may make one lose control; lose the ability not to show emotions even more then sadness would. We are conditioned not to show our sadness, we are told to be strong and not to show weakness, but I've never heard of being conditioned not to show happiness. Much harder to deny.

Chapter 3 ends as Season 10 ended. The very last image of Harry picking up the phone and saying his name.

**Chapter 4**

Harry hears a long sigh and a feminine voice starts talking, rapidly.

"Sir. Finally. I'm so glad. You weren't answering your mobile and that's all I had in the emergency contact file. It took me forever to find a number for you."

"I'm sorry, who is this." Harry doesn't really care about the answer. He just want to be left alone.

"Oh! Sorry. I'm Nurse Akins from the Victoria hospital. I've been trying to reach you since early yesterday morning."

His breath catches in his throat. _No.. not another death. I can't. I just can't._

"It's Miss Evershed, Sir. When we went in, you were gone and I couldn't reach you, and ."

It took all he has in him to control his voice and asks: "What about Miss Evershed."

"She's alive Sir! Miss Evershed is alive!" The voice says with elation before going on. "Just as we were doing the routine check-up before… terminating life support, we got a pulse, very faint, but there it was… a pulse. Then, she took a breath on her own, Sir. Miss Evershed took a breath all by herself. She's alive!"

Nurse Akins wanted to be the one giving him the news. She had been the treating nurse to Ruth. She had seen the distraught in him, had seen him crumble under her eyes. She had fought to be the one telling him.

The phone drops from his hand.

"My God! She's alive." He whispers not being able to grasp the words, not processing the thought. His legs give way and he falls in his chair. His body is numb. He can hear a voice coming from the phone.

"Mr. Pearce… Mr. Pearce. Are you there?"

He feels strange, as if everything inside him is breaking. How can something broken be broken again? He can't explain what he feels any other way, like the man he was, is being broken by exultation. The mask he had so elaborately put in place dissolves. It's gone.

Waves upon waves of joy, relief, happiness roll into one another.

_He's this what a rebirth feels like? I felt dead and now I don't. I've never felt more alive. _ Harry had never been a spiritual man. Men in fox holes… he hadn't believed then. But this! This!

Picking up the phone again he says: "Ruth is alive. Ruth Evershed is alive."

"Yes Sir. She's still on life support but her pulse is getting stronger every hour."

He replies with a tone of pure joy. "I'm coming, I'm on my way.'' He hangs up and picks up his phone again. "Mike. Car. Front door, NOW." and hangs up again.

Grabbing his phone and his coat. He looked around, looking for something else to get… he just didn't know what. He couldn't get up from his chair, his legs were just numb.

He had to go to her… now… legs working or not. He got up slowly. He noticed his hands were shaking… his whole body was shaking… like a leaf. He slowly walked outside his office.

Erin saw him first and stood looking at him. Then Calum and Dimitri noticed him. Erin was already by his side.

"What's wrong Harry? What happen?"

He tried to talk, tell her, but he couldn't get the words out at first, just her name.

"Ruth… Ruth is… She was… Ruth."

Erin put her hand on his arm. "Yes Harry… we know."

Harry tried again. "No… Ruth… she is alive."

He could see they did not believe him. The word felt good… they made him feel good… so he said them again.

"Ruth is alive." This time his voice was stronger and a smile illuminated his face. Everyone heard him and smiles flashed like lights on a Christmas Trees.

He walks to the pods, saying the words again. "Ruth is alive... Ruth is alive. I'm going to her." Harry rushes by the group. "I'll phone, I promise, but tell the DG I'll be away for a while and to get a replacement for me." Within seconds is out.

Harry steps out of Thames House in a flash. The car is waiting. Harry gets in.

"Mike . Victoria Hospital. Let's go. On the double." He's starting to feel giddy, like the air was too thin.

Harry picks his phone and starts punching numbers. He's smiling, his lips spreading all the way across his face.

"Catherine. It's your Dad."

She can hear happiness, joy, delight, in his voice. How can it be after the devastation of the night before.

"DAD, what the hell!"

"Catherine my beautiful daughter… SHE'S ALIVE. Ruth is alive."

Catherine is speechless… she can't find the words to speak. She didn't believe in miracles and this was no small one.

"Yes. Light of my days. Ruth is alive. I'm… I'm… My wonderful daughter, Ruth's alive."

"Dad…" she says chocking and Harry can hear tears in her voice.

"Catherine. Don't cry. It's such wonderful news my beautiful Catherine."

He hears Catherine's laugh. "Yes Dad. Ruth is alive."

Harry keeps on going. "And could you, enchanting daughter of mine, give me Graham's number. I'm on my way to the hospital and I want to tell him the news. I'm so happy Cat. I'm so happy and I can't find the words. Ruth's alive."

"I'm so happy for you, Daddy. I can't find the words either." She says laughing. Catherine was getting snatched in Harry's bubble of joy."

She gives him Graham's number and when she's about to hang up, her father stops her.

"Catherine?'

"Yes Dad."

"I love you Sweetheart."

"I love you too Dad."

"Just had to say it. I'm too happy."

"I understand Dad. Now hang up. Call Graham. You have somewhere to be. Bye Dad." She knows he only has a few minutes before arriving to the hospital.

"GRAHAM! It's Dad." Graham is surprised. His father almost shouting over the phone.

"Dad?"

"Yes my golden boy. I'm your Dad and Ruth is alive." He was ridiculously happy. He wanted to tell the world.

"MY GOD DAD! Wow… How… What…"

"Don't forget… who, where and why." Harry adds laughing. "I'm so happy, son. I'm even happier for the fact that I can call you to tell you. Ruth is alive."

"Dad, I'm so… so happy for you…"

"Oh! Graham. I can't tell you how happy I am, delirious with joy, euphoric." Harry is on a high. "This is going to be an amazingly wonderful day."

Graham couldn't recognize his father. _Who is this man? _He couldn't remember his father so jubilant. Harry Pearce wasn't known for his cheery disposition.

"Can you see anything from the cloud you're on Dad?" Graham adds a smile in his voice.

Harry giggles. Graham is now beside himself. _Wow I didn't know he had it in him. _"That's enough, who are you and what have you done with Harry Pearce. Dad! You're giggling like a schoolgirl." Graham teases.

"Right you are son. I…" Harry gets distracted by the word. "You know I love saying that word. Son. My son. My fantastic son. My…"

Graham laughs out loud. "Ok Dad, no way you're coming down anytime soon. "

Harry cuts in "Graham, I'm at the hospital. I've got to go son."

"Ok, Dad. Keep in touch. Ok?"

"I will son. I promise. I love you Graham. I didn't say it or showed it in the past, but I do. I always did."

"Love you too Dad."

That… Those 4 little words stop Harry dead in his track.

_Love you too Dad_.

Harry comes down from his cloud in one swift fall. He never expected, never thought he would again hear these words… from anyone… ever again. Three people. He has three impossibly wonderful human beings in his life and they loved him.

Soberly he whispers into the phone: "Oh! Graham. I don't deserve you. Thank you so much Graham. I love you son."

At the words, Graham feels his heart swell and his throat tightened. In a chocked voice he tells Harry. "Go Dad. Ruth's alive." And just like that, Harry is back on the top of his cloud. "That she is!"

He hangs up, jumps out of the car, runs into the hospital and doesn't stop before he reached the Nurse's station. He's looking for a nurse, any nurse. He wants to see Ruth. He hears his name coming from behind him in a familiar voice.

"Mr. Pearce!"

He turns around and recognizes the nurse.

"Ah! Nurse Akins. You're the one who phoned me… aren't you?"

"Yes!"

Harry gives her the biggest smile and shakes her hand. "Thank you… so much… She's alive?"

She nods. "She is Sir. Follow me I'll take you to her, Mr. Pearce."

"Call me Harry."


	5. Chapter 5

To all the readers who were kind enough to send me a review, thank you. I appreciate it so very much. Reviews are such a high…

Harry just learned that Ruth is alive, although in a coma. He's in her room.

**Chapter 5**

Doctor Steven Walker comes in and sees Harry by the bed, lost in his thoughts while staring at Ruth's face. He's never seen a man so happy yet in such bad shape. Harry has bruises on his forehead and chin, they are healing. They can't be more than 5 or 6 days old.

_God knows how he got them. Spooks!_ The doctor sighs and surveys Harry a little more. He's showing sign of extreme fatigue. Steven doesn't remember having seen him eat or sleep during the time he had stayed by Ruth's side.

Harry is holding Ruth's hand and looking at her beautiful face when a voice speaks and startles him.

"Mr. Pearce."

Harry turns around to the man at the door.

"Mr. Pearce. I have enough of one patient I don't need a second one. When was the last time you slept or ate?"

Harry blinks. She had been stabbed 5 days earlier. How long had the CIA kept him, maybe a day or two. Then he had been rescued and there had been no time for eating or sleeping.

"I'm not sure Doctor, maybe 7 days, maybe 8." Harry had not really cared to notice.

The look of shock on the man's face tells Harry that wasn't a good answer. The doctor had thought 4 or 5 days at most, to go that long without food or sleep was testament to Harry's strength.

"Might I convince you to leave her for a day or two." Steven knew the answer before he asked.

"No way Doctor. I'm staying put." Harry's eyes were dead serious.

"I thought so." Lifting his shoulder, inflating his chest for what he thinks is a battle to come, Doctor Walker says in a more forceful yet gentle voice: "I don't care how. You get something to eat, with all the food groups and in quantity. I'll get a cot in here for you. Once you've eaten I want you to sleep for at least 8 hours preferably starting in less than an hour from now. You're exhausted and in no condition to discuss Miss Evershed's case. Once you've rested, we can talk. Not before."

He sees anger starting to rise on Harry's face. "That's blackmailing!"

"I believe your profession knows the principle pretty well. At least, I don't have to explain how it works." He knew Harry and Ruth were spooks. He had treated spooks before and had had plenty of dealings with alpha male personality most of them were blessed with.

In a stern voice he speaks again, his turn to look dead serious. "You eat three meals a day, sleep for 8 continuous hours every night and you can stay as long as you want. Skip on one meal or one night and you're out on your ass. You will not be allowed by her side. Am I making myself clear, Mr. Pearce?"

Harry's attitude went down a peg. He'd do anything to stay by her side. "Crystal Doctor." Still he wasn't going to let the Doctor win so easily. "Oh! And Doctor!"

"Yes, Mr. Pearce."

"It's Sir Harry." The spook says with a tone and a smile reminiscent of a tongue pulling 5 years old.

The doctor has the good grace of not laughing, but the smile on his face could not be supress at Harry's last resort at being on top.

"Rank pulling, Sir Harry. You will see it doesn't really work with Doctors. There's God, Doctors and spooks are somehow lower on that list, much lower." Then with a more serious look on his face he adds looking directly into Harry's eyes. "I'm serious Sir Harry, you eat, you sleep or you're out. This is not an idle threat, you will be out."

Harry doesn't care about losing to the man… he'll do whatever it takes to stay with her. "Yes Doctor, I will eat and sleep. I promise. Take my word for it."

_There's no way I'm going anywhere, even less of my own fault_.

The threat has worked beautifully.

"However, if I may correct you, it's God, Knights of the realm and then Doctors." Harry adds with a large grin.

The Doctor snorts. In the end he has got the promise he wanted. He'd let Harry win the verbal jousting. He is satisfied that the man gave him his word.

Steven was somewhat surprised at how easily Harry had given up. He didn't seem to be the type of man who could be ordered around. The power this woman had over him was so strong; the simple thought that he could not see her made him infinitely more pliable. Something the doctor would keep in mind.

Steven stayed for a while checking on Ruth, examining results on the different terminals. Once he's done he simply turns around and leaves the room without a word.

Harry has every intention of not tempting the doctor into kicking him out. He's going to be the best bloody inmate. He moves into action. With the attention to detail he gives a black op, Harry had, within 30 minutes, a cot and a square meal that Nurse Akins, now Cheryl, has ordered from the bistro next door.

After eating his meal, Harry gets undress to his boxer and undershirt. He walks to the bed, leans over Ruth and takes her hand in his. "Good night my love. Sweet dreams." He whispered in her ear. He gently kisses her and turning around he gets under the blanket and lies down. He falls asleep within seconds, a huge smile on his face. His last thought is:

_Ruth's alive_

Several hours later, a door closing wakes Harry up. Looking at his watch he sees it is close to 7:00 pm. He has slept for 9 hours. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so long. He yawns, stretches a little and gets up. Putting his trouser and his shirt on, he moves towards Ruth's bed.

"Hello dear heart." He bends and kisses her. "Did you sleep well? I did. I dreamed of you. I love you Ruth."

He moves away from her and starts planning his stay in the hospital. First thing, a meal. The Doctor would know if he didn't eat. The promise of a good tip, makes the bistro next door happy to deliver directly to Ruth's room. After dinner and a decent cup of tea, he feels much better.

Picking up his phone he calls his daughter.

"Hi Catherine, it's Dad."

"About time Dad, I was starting to worry. "

"I know honey. I'm sorry. I just woke up. Can you believe I slept for 9 hours? Doctor's order. If I don't behave, he's kicking me out. So I did as I was told."

"Wow. I'll have to exchange notes with that Doctor." She laughed.

"You don't need too Sweetheart, you know you've got me wrapped around your finger."

"No I don't" she says laughing

"Yes you do. You just don't know you do." He chuckles. "Listen honey, could you do me a favour. Could you stop by the house in the morning and get me some clothes. You know, couple of pair of jeans, shirts, underwear. Oh. And I need my shaving kit if you don't mind."

"So you're moving in I guess." She teases him.

"I'm not leaving her, not for a minute." is his reply… his eyes on Ruth.

"How is she" Catherine asks in a gentle tone.

"I don't know the doctor refused to talk until I slept and ate. She's still in a coma. She hasn't moved or shown signs of waking up but her pulse is steady and she breathes on her own a little more every day."

"That's good Dad."

"She's alive, Catherine, for me right now, that's all I care about."

"Dad, I'm so happy for you. I couldn't stand the way you were. Anything you need, I'm here for you. Anything at all, you just ask." Harry can hear the determination in her voice but her tone comes back to gentleness when she adds. "I'll let you go to her now. We'll talk a little when I visit early tomorrow."

"Actually honey, if you bring breakfast, we could have it together. Let's say 8:00. Victoria Hospital. Room 306. You got that?"

"Yes Dad. See you in the morning. Love you Dad. Bye!"

"Love you too Catherine. See you."

Second on the list is Malcom. When the call is picked up, Harry announced without preambule: "Malcom, Ruth's alive."

"WHAT!"

"Ruth's alive Malcom. She's alive. I'm with her and I need your help."

They talk for a little while, Harry asking Malcom to take Scarlett with him until he returns home. The poor thing hasn't had much attention in the last days.

"Malcom, I know it's really beneath your ability, but could you get me every single source of food that will deliver to the Victoria Hospital and send the list to my phone."

Malcom laughs. He knows Harry to well to let the statement slide. "Who's pressuring you into having normal habits?"

Harry blushes, happy that his old friend couldn't see through the phone. "One of the bloody Doctor. Full of himself if you ask me. Maybe you could vet him, you know find some dirt, just to see if I can have some leverage." Malcom's reply is immediate.

"Oh no! You don't Harry. I will not do it and you will not ask Tariq or Callum to do it either. For once, you will take care of yourself and you will do as you're told."

"But Malcom…" Harry tries…

"No Harry. No buts, ifs or maybes. I'll scramble your life into such a mess that you'll be dealing with bureaucrats for the rest of your life undoing it all. How would you like to have to resubmit your income tax declaration for the last 12 years."

"You wouldn't!"

"Don't test me Harry. I would. Ruth is going to need you Harry. You will have to be strong for her." Malcom says in a gentler voice.

"Ok Malcom. No vetting the Doctor. I'll do as I'm told. Thank you Malcom."

Next was Graham. Harry asked him to take Scarlett to Malcom that night. He knew Malcom had been his favourite of all his colleagues, at least the few Graham had met.

Afterwards, he sits looking at Ruth, watching the breath coming in and out of her body. He starts talking to her, telling her how much he loves her. He tells her about anything and everything.

Around 10 o'clock, Harry quickly washes and gets down to his boxer and shirt again. He moves to her, kisses her forehead.

"Good night my love. I'm going to bed now. Meet me in my dreams, will you? I'll see you in the morning. I love you."

He kisses the tip of her nose his lips moving to her cheeks to finish on her lips for a long gentle kiss. He then moves the cot closer to her bed, slipping under the blankets; he lays on his side to take Ruth's hand in his. He closes his eyes and just fells in a dream filled sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

I'm not so interested in the medical probabilities of Ruth's recovery or even the credibility behind what I wrote. I want to get Harry and Ruth together and talking. I've wanted that for a long time. So I apologize if the medical explanations don't make any sense, let's just leave it at Ruth's recovery being a miracle. No explanation needed. I know pretty lazy but this story is already long enough without pages of long medical explanation. Everyone saw how she was stabbed and I believe, like lots of people, she should have survived.

Thanks again for all the reviews; they are my bread and butter. They make my day every single one of them.

Last chapter Scarlett is going to Malcom, Graham being the animal handler. Ruth is still in a coma and Harry is blackmailed into having healthy habits.

**Chapter 6**

Graham was only too happy to help his father. Malcom only lived an hour from London. After a day's work, the drive would do him good, allowing him to think of everything that had happened. To think of how his life had changed two days ago when his father had cried in his arms.

He's actually quite glad to meet with Malcom who, without a doubt, is the closest friend his father has. Even against MI-5 policy of no contact after decommission, they were still good friends. Maybe Malcom would help him make sense of the last day and the years gone by, while he and his father had been estranged.

Malcom is all smiles when he opens the door to see Graham standing on his porch. He gives the young man a hug. "Graham, I'm so glad to see you."

"Hello Uncle Malcom."

"Come on, enough of the Uncle. You use to call me that when you were 6 or 7. Call me Malcom."

"I'm really glad to see you Malcom."

"Come in, please, come through." Closing the door behind Graham, Malcom bends over Scarlett rubbing her head. "Hello Scarlett. You're going to stay with me and mother for a little while." He unties the lead and Scarlett goes to explore her new surroundings.

"About a cup of tea Graham."

"I'd love to."

"Let's move to the kitchen and have a bit of a chat." Malcom knows the younger man probably has more than a few questions.

After a few hours, Graham is on his way back to London. His conversation with Malcom had been enlightening, to say the least. So many things he hadn't known about.

After getting Graham's promise that their conversation was never to be repeated, not even to his father, Malcom opened up and told him how his father had always kept an eye on him, how much Harry loved him. Also, how he had hoped for reconciliation, just didn't know how to go about it. Graham found out about all that his father had sacrifice for his country. He now had a new insight on Harry. How his father had been tortured and hurt for the good of others, unknowing of the pain and the burden of the decisions needed to save them. Graham had tried to imagine what it was like and hadn't been able to.

Would he have been as brave, as thoughtless about his own welfare and happiness? Would he have been this unselfish? He wasn't sure he would have done the same. The amount of abnegation was absurd. That night, Graham had learned the reasons of his father's absence. Berlin, Northern Ireland, Bagdad, Moscow. Only locations to him but to his father, they were traumatic events, lives saved, and loss of friends and colleagues.

It didn't solve anything but explained a lot… so much.

Graham understood now and he felt, in his heart, he wanted to forgive his father. The most surprising to him was the pride he felt for the man, for the path he had chosen for his life. To help others is a meaningful and great purpose in life, but to risk one's life all the time, not even getting a thank you note for it, not many people would do it.

Malcom had told him that it was easy to judge Harry, make assumptions of what he must have felt, but in the end, his father had had to live with the consequences and the guilt of every decision he'd ever made. Everyone else had the luxury of thinking they were only following orders. Not Harry.

They had also talked about Ruth. Malcom had given him another perspective on their relationship. He had told Graham how in love Harry was with Ruth and how complicated things were. He told him about the fears they both had, the fear of gossips and judgement on Ruth's side and the fear of retaliation, the possibility of someone using her to get to him from Harry's point of view. He hadn't been able to protect her when that had happened in the past… There was also the fear of losing her, of losing the ease in their professional relationship, of losing their friendship and it was shared by both Harry and Ruth.

It was complicated. 10 years of unrequited love between them, of guessing what the other feels, what he thinks, what he wants, it complicated things to no end. How two seemingly intelligent people could get it so wrong was an impressive feat in itself.

Malcom had explained the emotional state of his two friends.

"Never forget Graham. Your father has lived with guilt and sacrifice for so long, he doesn't know differently anymore. He believes he doesn't deserve to be happy and that everyone he loves eventually leaves him whether by death or by choice. This belief your father has, about Ruth, about you and Catherine as well, has been conditioned in him. He knows it and believes it like it's a universal truth. Harry Pearce must pay for his sin and does not deserve to be happy that how the universe is set. So whenever happiness shows up, it's hard for him to accept it because he believes it's only temporary. He thinks that life is going to snatch it from him. Why wouldn't he believe that, it's been that way all of his life. He's afraid, paralyzed with fears if his heart is involved. So he hides behind this mask he had. I think there's a limited amount of times a heart can be trampled over before it breaks beyond repair."

Malcom let out a long and deep sigh.

"These two, Graham, are the most professional, most competent, efficient and logical people I've ever met, but in their personal life they are utterly inept. Harry sees Ruth as this Madonna, a demure, inexperienced and innocent young girl. Ruth has tried to live up to that image but that is not who she is. The whole relationship became an impossibly complicated situation."

When Graham arrives home, the healing that had started two days before had to go forward. He had to think what he wanted his life to be, how he wanted his relationship with his father to evolve. Harry had said he wanted to turn the page. Graham knew, now, it had to be both ways; he'd have to want it too. He'd have to let go of the past, live with the shame of some of the things he had told his dad, the harsh words of a teenager.

_You're right Dad, let's turn the page and start over again. _With that Graham gets out of his car, locks the door and gets into his flat.

#######

Harry had been by Ruth's side for a week now. The Doctors had tried to not let his hopes build. The outcome was far from clear to them. She might have suffered brain damage or might not wake up. This was the first of their concerns and they had many. If she did wake up, she might not be able to walk, talk, or do any of the things she used to do. She might have to relearn how to do everything. She might lose her memory, all of them or part of them.

In the end, they had admitted they didn't know what was going to happen because they couldn't explain how she was even alive.

"Harry. She died. She literally died. She shouldn't be alive but she is. We just can't explain how or why she is." The doctor had told him.

"Because you don't know her." Harry had replied. "She's brilliant, strong, the most stubborn mule you've ever met and if she puts her mind to something, she'll do it. She must have put her mind to surviving." Harry smiled.

Steven, with a small smile, gently slaps Harry's back before he replies. "That's as good an explanation as there'll ever be."

Steven Walker was a great doctor; they had developed an appreciation for each other and maybe the beginning of friendship. It had been a while since Harry had established any type of bond, without the use of a surveillance van or a research team. The type of work and the hours they kept at MI-5 didn't really make it easy to meet new people outside of their field of work. At some point, Harry regretting his earlier petulance, had wished to be on a first name basis with the Doctor and they had found common grounds in doing what was best for Ruth.

Harry's eyes kept going back to Ruth. "I know I shouldn't keep my hopes up, but truthfully" he said with his eyes sparkling: "She's alive, that's all that matters. I don't care whether she walks or talks. If she wakes up, I'll be happy with whatever I get, because she's alive."

The doctor turned to him: "I believe that two very stubborn people can overcome almost anything together."

Harry laughed. "That we are and we will."

#######

Three weeks had gone by and Ruth was no closer to waking up. For Harry however, the last three weeks had been the best of his life, a blessing.

Every day, the same routine. Breakfast was followed by Harry exercising. He would go out of the room, while Cheryl kept an eye on Ruth, and run up and down the inside stairs of the building. Afterwards, he would shower, get dress and start on a regiment of exercise for Ruth, flexing and pushing on her legs and arms to make sure they didn't atrophied. The exercise would also gradually build her strength.

Unknown to him, the doctors had suggested it out of desperation of finding something for him to do and stop his incessant questioning. It could only be good for Ruth and while he was busy Harry seemed happy.

Midday was lunch and during the afternoon he would read to her for a couple of hours. He had asked Beth to bring some of Ruth's book something she would like. He had already gone through Persuasion and Iliad… but the one he had preferred so far was The Cursed Kings. Ruth had the original French version, but as he wasn't that fluent in French, he had gone online and bought the translation and had read it to her. It was set in the 1100s; French Kings, English Queen, political strategy, treachery, betrayal, a few poisoning and assassinations. Reminded him of his job.

After reading, it was time his favourite part of the day. He would just speak to her while rubbing lotion on her arms and legs and any part of her body decency allowed him to touch. Cheryl had told him her skin needed to be moisturized. Such soft exquisite skin needed his attention and dedication… daily.

He would tell her what he did that day, what he'd be doing the day after. He told her he had visited the house she had picked for them. How perfect the house was, how he could see them living there. He had wanted to buy it for them, but by the time he had inquired, the house had been sold. But he would find another one. That was his main goal now, to find them a perfect house to live in. And every afternoon without fault, he would tell her how he loved her, when he had started to love her, when he had truly fallen in love with her and how he would always love her.

After supper, he would put some quiet music on, Satie, Debussy or Barber. He would pick up his laptop and look for their house or just read sitting in the arm chair on the other side of Ruth's bed, holding her hand in his. Between 10 and 11, he would go to sleep and start all over the following day. To Harry, the busy, hard levelled man, the simple routine felt like heaven.

Incongruously, Harry had never felt better. Physically, it had been years since he had been in such good shape. In three weeks, he had gone from a single run to now running the stairs up and down three times in a row. He had lost a good 10 kilos and had added quite a bit of muscle weight. His midriff wasn't so thick anymore. A stable routine of balanced meals, three every day, and 8 or more hours of uninterrupted sleep every night had done wonders for him. Even his hair, he thought, seems brighter, thicker to his hand. That made him sneer every time it crossed his mind.

Harry had honestly admitted to himself that he wanted to look good for when Ruth would wake up. She had liked him the way he was before, but it mattered to him that he showed himself at his best, like some kind of virginal bride. Sentimental old fool, that's what he was.

Emotionally, his children loved him; he was close to his beloved, centered on her wellbeing, without the stress of planning, fighting, and trying to pull solutions or strategies out of a hat. Harry had never felt so in sync with himself. He was simply happy. That simple joy of doing simple things surrounded with people you love. That was all he needed; the blissfulness of jovial simplicity.

He truly felt great. Body and soul.

Graham and Catherine visited at least every two days, alternating days sometimes, together at others. They would share meals with him, talk about Ruth, life, their relationship. They had grown closer during these three weeks. There wasn't much to do apart from talking, so the past had come up. In a good way. There wasn't much bickering or anger. There was a lot of shame and guilt, but even more forgiveness.

Graham, despite his promise to Malcom, made Catherine swear she would never tell a soul and he shared what he had learn about their dad's life. Funny how without thoughts or even awareness on their parts, Harry had gone from being their father to being their dad. That was not all that changed. Now they would talk and laugh together. Goodbyes were done with kisses and hugs now… and always, always I love you on all sides. They had lost so many years, so many hugs. Never again.

Harry had found that Graham was a really good chess player and they had disputed quite a few very tight games. They would play in the room or phoned in a move when they'd think of one. Their relationship was moving on with ease. Graham had been cleaned for years now and had started his own business three years previous, in graphic and advertising designs and from what Harry had seen on his son's company website, he was pretty good at it. Harry had praised him several time and told him how proud he was.

The relationship between him and his son had leapt bounds and leaps. Their first real conversation on the subject was the day after Graham had driven Scarlet to Malcom. They had sat for dinner, in Ruth's room, and just had let the conversation flow.

"You know Dad. What you said… starting over. I'd like that." Graham was hesitant and a bit shy. "But before we turn the page, I'd like to ask you to forgive me for all I said and did. All of the fights and the yelling please forgive me." Harry could see in his son's eyes all the hopes the young man had.

"I did more than my share Graham. I'm the one asking for your forgiveness and to find it in you to turn the page and give me a second chance." That had started the conversation, one that would be ongoing for years, but this was a good start. They spoke every regrets and agreed to let go of the guilt from a hurtful past. They had also reminisced over fond memories… they had forgotten all these years.

As Graham was ready to leave one night, Harry had hugged him before saying. "You make me very happy son. I've wanted this for so long. I never wanted anything else so bad…" Looking at Ruth lying in bed, Harry felt a smile spreading his lips. "Except maybe for wanting Ruth, I also wanted her very much and for a very long time."

Graham had smile looking at the wishful face of his father. "Really Dad. Hadn't notice." And the son had left the father, knowing he had put that little crooked smile on Harry's face.

Catherine was staying put in London right now. She was editing her last documentary. She had done the shooting in Israel and was picking the good from the not so good off the floor of her apartment. It would be more than a few months before she would want to go back on the road to film her next documentary. That made Harry breathe a little easier.

She would visit and help him, doing the feminine stuff. Nurses were handling Ruth's bed baths, usually during his run up and down the stairs, but they didn't have much time for the little touch. Catherine would brush Ruth's hair until it shined, would give her manicures and pedicures. Harry had liked the fire engine red nail polish Ruth's beautiful toes. She taught Harry how to give massages, hands and feet only, at first and they had moved on to legs, arms and shoulders.

All the while, father and daughter kept the communication lines open. They talked about sensitive topics, about work, about their lives. Catherine had started seeing someone and was only too happy to talk about this new development with her father. Naturally, she had only started talking after getting the promise, from him, that there would be no vetting and no interrogation of said someone. Her father had changed… a lot… just not that much.

Harry was in a bubble untouched by time or the real world. It was a time only for him, his children and his Ruth. He was happy. Even though Ruth had not woken up, he was happy. She was safe; getting better every day, all he had to do was to wait his time. Their time.

He was full of hopes and the absolute certainty that Ruth would wake up.

_What's not to be happy about?_


	7. Chapter 7

Again, reviews are much appreciated. I'm becoming a review addict. It still thrills me to no end when I get one.

There's a small part here for a friend with a really twisted mind. Hope you'll forgive me for having Harry say something so utterly ridiculous but it's all in good fun. I'll go to great length when a friend needs a smile. Here's to you kiddo.

Last chapter, Hospital stay is doing wonders for Harry, while Ruth is showing no signs of real improvement.

**Chapter 7**

_Bugger! What's wrong with me. Come on Evershed, put yourself together. Open your eyes, move something, anything. Do a Lazarus on everyone._

Ruth had had flashes of awareness for a quite sometimes now, they were very short and she didn't seem to be able to do anything. She remembers she had been stabbed and knew she was in a hospital.

_Come on. You can recite Homer in Greek but can't lift your eye lids. That's ridiculous. Come on. _

Ruth felt so weak, so totally drained; just having a single thought was tiring.

Through the flashes of awareness, she had heard Harry's voice. Every time she'd wake up she would hear his voice or feel his hand somewhere on her body. On a few occasions, she had felt his hand on her arms and legs. Soft, caring, gentle hands.

"_My God, it's almost worth being stabbed. I can't lift a finger, but I want his hands on my body… every single inches of it. Wow! How can I think like that while I'm not even awake? Bugger!"_

She had also been aware of something cool he was rubbing on her. That was her favourite time. For some reason, she was awake more often for that time than any other.

_Yeah… for some reason… Funny, funny girl... Naughty girl! _

Harry seemed happy. He would talk to her, move her legs and arms, read to her and all the time he seemed happy. His voice was cheerful and relaxed. She liked that side of Harry. That was Happy Harry to her.

She knew of other voices. His children had been in the room. She had heard him say their names. She had recognised their names. Catherine and Graham. They often visited. The three of them talked a lot. She liked Harry's voice with them. It was different somehow. Not the voice he used with her, certainly not the voice from the Grid, just a different gentle voice.

The flashes were confusing. She had no idea of time, couldn't tell if it was night or day, but she heard the voices. One morning, she hears Harry leaving and Catherine talking to her while rubbing lotion on her left arm and hand.

_She sure doesn't have her father's touch. It's nice, just not as nice. _She giggles in her head.

Ruth concentrates on paying attention to Catherine talking. "Ruth, Dad has stepped out for a few hours. So you're stuck with me. I'm Catherine, Harry's daughter. I'm glad we are alone because I need to talk to you without you knowing. I won't be able to do it once you wake up."

Ruth hears her take a deep breath before Catherine speaks again.

"Ruth, I don't know how to say this. It just sounds so horrible, so heartless, but here I go. Ruth, I'm so grateful that you died. Wait! It doesn't mean I'm not deliriously happy that you are alive now. But when Dad lost you, it brought us so much closer. He changed Ruth, you have no idea how much losing you changed him. Getting you back also changed him, even more. He's happy now… but it's like… he savours every instant of happiness he gets. Do you know that I don't remember the last time I've seen him happy."

Catherine stops for a moment and Ruth hears a joy and wonderment in Catherine's voice when she speaks again.

"His relationship with Graham is so wonderful to watch. I never thought I'd see the day. I owe it all to you, Ruth. I've never seen Dad or Graham behave like friends. I have a family now, a real normal family, with family meals and teasing and all the things I never thought I would get. I can never thank you enough for this, Ruth. You've changed Dad's life and you've also changed mine and Graham's. "

Catherine moves to the other side of the bed and starts on her other arm and hand.

"Dad has opened up like I never thought he could. We talk now, really talk. About everything… about things that matter, like his marriage to mum, how it affected us kids and there's no hiding on his part, no temper and no shouting. We also talk about stupid little thing like he thinks I look good in light green and where I should have my car serviced. I never got that from him before. Talking was always so difficult with us, like walking on egg shells. Now I can't shut him up." Catherine is chuckling now.

"Ruth. Wake up soon. Please wake up. I want to meet you. I can never thank you properly because I could never tell you that your death was a God sent."

Catherine lost the jovial tone she had so far and lowers her tone, like something she couldn't make herself hear.

"The night we found out you were alive. Dad asked me to get some clothes from his home, so I went that same night. I went upstairs to get his shaving kit and the mirror in the washroom was smashed, pieces were scattered around the sink and on the floor. Then I went to his room, his gun was on his bed. He never leaves his gun out, Ruth. Never. The house was desolate, like his loss was still in the air, like a thick and oppressing weight. I went down to the kitchen; a cup and a saucer were set on the table, just one, unused, just alone on the table. I cried Ruth, cried for his loneliness, for what could have happened if you had not come back to him. I mentioned the mirror to him, which is incredible that I could even broach the subject with him. He told me he remembered breaking it. But he didn't mention the gun, didn't ask if I saw it or if put it away. I don't think he remembers taking it out."

Still in the moment, Catherine couldn't talk for a few minutes.

"That night, Ruth, I opened the windows to let the fresh air in, I put away his gun in the safety box of his closet. I went out and bought flowers, lots of flowers and a new mirror. I didn't want his house to be a mourning house anymore. And I cried again. I cried because you were alive and I had a happy Dad."

Ruth felt lips on cheeks, gently kissing her.

"Thank you, Ruth. I owe a great debt of gratitude I'll never be able to repay."

Ruth fell asleep at that moment. The sadness and the thought of what Harry might have done, had she not survived, were just too hard, too painful to contemplate, she was exhausted.

Catherine didn't notice the single tear that came down on the side of Ruth's face. No one notice later as the tear had dried. Ruth knew… she knew had to fight to come back, fight for Harry, he needed her.

######

Over the weeks, other people came; Malcom, Tariq, Beth… all the others from the Grid came to visit her and to see how Harry was doing. They really cared about it. It felt good to hear them. Her moments of awareness were getting a little longer as time pass. Strangers were also coming. She knew their names; Steven and Cheryl were the most frequent visitors. She didn't know who they were. Steven had a nice laugh and Cheryl wore a really nice perfume.

_I'll have to ask her the name. I like it. Not too sweet or too musky. I think it's jasmine based with a hint of citrus and maybe cedar wood. Very delicate and feminine. I wonder if Harry would like it. _Then she stopped her thoughts_. Wow where did that come from! _

Her favourite flashes were of him and his voice, somehow between a whisper and a wish. He would tell her how much he loved her, the life they would build together, how happy they were going to be.

Her most memorable flash so far had been waking up in his arms. Waking up had never felt this good. He was lying in her bed, on his side, holding her close to him. Her head lying on his chest, tucked under his chin, his hand roaming the expanse of her back. She could hear him whisper in her ears how he wanted her to wake up so he could kiss her and she could return his kiss.

She didn't know how or if it was even possible, but Ruth felt a surge of desire coming through her body, she wanted him so much and it was such a rush. Images of them embracing were whirling in her head. She felt overwhelmed, enfolded in a bubble of warmth, her back overly sensitized as his hand kept on brushing against her clothes. Her heart was racing, beating a…

Suddenly the door opened with a bang and someone came in running to stop dead at the end of the bed.

"Harry Pearce! Don't… don't ever do that again!" Said the voice Ruth recognised as being Cheryl's.

_Oh! Come on woman, don't be such a duffer. A little privacy would be nice. Is there a place on this planet where we could be alone? Christ, I can't move, I can't open my eyes, I can't talk. Let me at least enjoy this. Bugger the hell out! _Ruth wanted to scream_._

Harry didn't move, obviously very comfortable and close to dozing off, he just said. "What Cheryl, what did I do?"

"The terminal went crazy because of a spike in her heart rate, I thought she was coding, but it seems she's just enjoying what you're doing. For God sakes Harry, you're going to give me grey hairs."

With an impish smile Harry had answered: "Sorry Cheryl. I didn't know this would happen. I just needed to hold her."

As he's about to close his eyes again when all of a sudden, Harry sat straight up, eyes wide open. "Enjoying what I'm doing? That means she hears and she feels. Does it? That's a good sign?"

"Yes, Harry. That's what it means and yes Harry it's a good sign."

He laid down again, taking Ruth back into his arms, kissing her hair, her temple, her cheek. "You hear me love, you feel me. Oh! Ruth. You are brilliant, my love."

Cheryl had never seen such a big and tender smile on his face. "Very well then. No more of this or you'll be the death of me." Cheryl turned around walking to the door as she spoke. "She's in a coma and yet her heart rate's spiking. You must really be something else, Harry." Cheryl left with a cheeking smile on her face.

Ruth felt Harry's chest moving under her cheek as he laughed. She didn't get his answer for she fell asleep cursing the nurse's intrusion.

_She should teach him how to turn off the terminal and to turn it back on once we're done cuddling. _Was her last thoughts.

######

Flashes after flashes, she experienced more of Happy Harry. His kisses, his touch, his words. He was very open in the way he was behaving with her. She had never felt this happy.

When she woke up next, the room was quiet except for Harry's soft snore.

She thought about him, how she'd have to be strong for him. She believed him more fragile than he thought. That would make him howl with laughter… the great Harry Pearce… fragile. Still, she believed he was. So estranged from himself, from his heart, she was afraid it would destroy him. Not remembering taking his gun out had terrified her. She also realised that speaking to her when she couldn't hear him, alone in the room, had been easy… but she knew in her bone, he would never make the first step towards a relationship with her. He was too afraid, of losing her, of giving his heart and having it broken. She'd have to be the one to move them forward.

_The notion he has of me is such a load of bullocks. I can't be Jane bloody Eyre. You're in for a hell of a surprise Harry. You're getting the real but new and improved Ruth. I'm not going to let you hide again or put me on an unreachable pedestal. I'm tired of that crap. I'm Ruth, I'm woman and I roar or whatever the blooming song says._

Things would change now.

_No more secrets, no more hiding… for either of us. I swear. _

All she had to do was to get better and have a go at Happy Harry. Now was as good a time as ever to start getting better.

_I want to move my fingers. Ok, let's try. Brain… are you listening to me? It's me, Ruth, the one in charge here. Now, tell my hand to tell my thumb it has to move. Do it! Tell my hand to tell my thumb to move. Damn, it's not moving. Again brain_. It wasn't working but she kept on going. It would happened, she was sure of it.

_Tell my hand…. _

She kept trying every time she'd wake up, trying to move her thumb. She succeeded a couple of times but Harry was gone, sleeping or too busy to notice. Like right now, he was chatting and rubbing her legs and she was trying to move her thumb.

"and then Graham made his move and check mate me. I was stunned… "

_Oh! Harry, shut up would you. I'm trying here. Your voice, your hands, too many distractions. Brain, don't listen to him… tell my hand to tell… _She moved her thumb and fell asleep exhausted, Harry not knowing any better, kept on chatting and rubbing.

Over time, she kept moving her thumb. It was becoming easier. She started working on her other fingers…

One night… she woke up again. This time, her hand was held in Harry's. He was sitting; it was probably late at night. She had figure out the pattern of his routine. Fresh smelling Harry, mornings. Pushing and pulling her legs and arms. Also morning because it was before the smell of food. Reading afternoon, before the second smell of food. Evenings, hand holding.

_Perfect timing. It's quiet_ _and he's not busy. Let's get this show on the road. Brain, tell my bloody hand to tell my bloody thumb… _

Then she heard his voice. "OH MY GOD!" Keeping her hand in his Harry started talking "Ruth, my love, do it again. Move your thumb, Ruth. Just a little. Just to show me…"

_Yes Harry, I'll do it again, hold on. _She was trying with everything she had in her._ Tell my bloody hands to tell my bloody thumb… Come on brain, again. _She felt so tired and knew she was going to fall asleep again soon.

Harry dropped her hand and step away from her and ran across the room. "Nurse, Nurse… Come quick." and Ruth knew she had moved her thumb a second time. She felt elated and knackered. She was asleep in seconds.

Later, after Doctor Walker had examined the results on the terminals, he started discussing the results with Harry.

"Her heart rate is normal and regular. We will be taking the breathing tube out tomorrow morning. She's can breathe on her own and her lungs are holding just fine. We've seen a significant increase in brain activities in the last 48 hours and the increase is constant. I'd say now with a degree of certainty that she is going to wake up. This is nothing short of a miracle, Harry. Can't tell you when she'll wake up, but if I was a betting man, I'd say soon."

Harry felt like jumping up and down. It was like the relief and the joy were too much for his body. Harry started shaking from head to toe and to Steven he looked like he was in shock, a shock of happiness.

Grabbing Harry's arms gently Steven was keeping a close eye on him. "It's ok Harry. Deep breath. Deep breath. Again, Harry. It's going to be all right." Harry's eyes were enormous and his impersonation of a fish was pretty good.

"Steven, that's… a… a… can't find the words, Steven. It's a… supercalifragilisticexpialidocious news."

Steven roared with laughter. "Didn't take you for a Mary Poppins fan Harry."

Harry felt a sudden rush as the blood came back in his body. After a minute or two, he could talk again. "Obviously you don't have kids Steven. Mine sang the stupid song for weeks. Blimey, I didn't know I remembered the word. Now Steven, this is between you and me, it's not coming out of here. Am I clear?"

Steven was laughing, hard: "Harry, we've already established that I'm a superior blackmailer, you've just given me more ammunition."

Without another word, Steven left the room. Harry didn't give it a second thought and went back to Ruth. He laid down beside her. He knew she was asleep so there would be no spiking. He hugged her against his chest, starting with the top of her head he kissed every patch of skin on her face.

"My God Ruth. You're going to wake up. We're going to be together. You're going to wake up, my Love. What a glorious thing."

Slowly he calmed down. His hold on her loosened a little, his breath and heart rate matching hers. He thought he'd be too wired to fall asleep but before he knew it, he was asleep, his head filled with images of him and Ruth on carousel horses galloping through a colourful country side.

In the morning, when the nurse came in, she saw them both spooned in bed. Their body perfectly aligned from their head to their feet. Harry had a smile on his face. Careful not to wake him up, she turned around and closed the door behind her.

######

A few days later, Harry was waiting for a doctor, any doctor really. He just wanted to know how things were going. Once the breathing tube had been taken away, she looked just like his Ruth again. He was pushing Ruth legs up bending her knee almost to her chest, taking it down and again with the other leg, up and down.

"You know, I've done of lot of out of character things lately." He was chuckling a little as if he remembered something funny. "When I found out you were alive, I kissed and hugged almost everyone that crossed my path."

Laying her leg back on the bed, he pulls the blanket back to cover them.

"Then earlier this week, I called everyone I know. Catherine, Graham, Malcom, the whole team, I even called Mike. I called to tell them all you had moved your thumb. I have to say, Dimitri and Callum weren't so impress, Alec just growl and hung up on me.

Harry moved onto her side, lifting and bending her arm.

"Yet the worse… and by the way, this is never leaving this room, is when Steven told me you were going to wake up, I just blurted it's a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious news. I mean… you better wake up soon, honey or my reputation will be in shambles by the time you get out of this bed." He was chuckling to himself.

"Where the word came from I haven't the faintest clue. It's just embarrassing. I didn't even know I still knew the word supercalifragilisticexpialidocious and now it seems I can't stop saying it.

"Bugger Mary Poppins" Ruth mutters. She had moved all of her fingers the night before and had even put her hand into a fist. It was now time for words, she had desperately wanted words.

"RUTH! You talked. You talked. I can't believe you've actually talked. That's the most amazing thing… ever… Ruth, hold on I'll be right back." She heard him run across the room.

"CHERYL. GET STEVEN NOW!."

Minutes later the Doctor came in, to a frantic Harry who was pacing the floor. Seeing him, Harry moved and grabbed him by the lapel of his coat with the biggest smile ever.

"She talked Steven"

"She did… did she really? Not just mumbles, but words." The doctor eyes were on Ruth now.

"She was asleep by the time I came back from the door, you missed it. But she did talk, as in words talk" Harry looked on top of the world.

"What did she say?"

Harry looked as proud as if Ruth had just recited the Magna Carta, "She said: Bugger Mary Poppins"

Steven's laugh was heard along the corridor more than a few doors down.


	8. Chapter 8

Finally, I'm free from the serie, Harry and Ruth are both alive and in the same room. Time to play with my favourite characters.

Reviews are deeply desired. They actually stimulate my fingers into running over the keyboard.

Last chapter ended with Ruth waking up and with Happy Harry around.

**Chapter 8**

It had been two weeks since Ruth had said her first words. Mentally, she was back. Her speech was almost back to normal, her memory was intact. Physically, it was a very different story. She could move her arms and hands, but not easily. She somewhat couldn't control them properly and she didn't have the strength to grab a glass or a cup. Her legs were even worse. Any movement was gruelling and exhausting. Ruth was frustrated. She hated feeling so weak and dependant on others.

At first, she could only be awake for a few minutes, but now she could be for as much as an hour, sometimes more. The biggest change, however, was that two weeks ago, Happy Harry had left the building and things were again complicated.

Silly how people die, but old habits won't.

Faithful to the dance, they had been doing for years, Harry was now exercising twice a day, had stop rubbing her skin, had hired a physiotherapist for her exercise, he had showed her the books he had brought in and hardly talked to her. He would go to bed every night, without a word or a kiss.

Signs of stress were back on Harry's face, utter frustration on Ruth's and Steven didn't know what to do with them. Catherine and Graham noticed the change and were concerned. They were seeing the old not so happy Harry come back. What if their new and still fragile relationship vanished? What if the weeks of being a family were just an interlude? Catherine was getting sad and Graham angry, both afraid of losing what they had gained and enjoyed.

Harry was unaware of how his children felt, how Ruth felt, Harry was back in his little personal pit of disquiet and apprehension. To make the elephant in the room bigger yet, the mask was partly back on Harry's face and Ruth was at best fretful, at worse downright agitated whenever she saw it. She wanted to talk to him, but didn't know how to start and she went back to waiting for him to breach the subject, make the first move.

She was frustrated with herself and with Harry.

However, late one afternoon, she reached her limit… the final straw. Not only had he not help her with the exercise and the lotion, Harry had hardly said a word to her. Pretending to be tired and in need of a snooze, he had laid down on his side, his back to her, and hadn't moved for three hours, totally oblivious that his behaviour was making her angry… very angry.

_He'd rather fake sleep than talk to me. The sodding man, I'd kill him with my bare hands if I could move. _She was seriously ready to pop off his head and twist it around just to see if he would react_._

She was tired, tense and unhappy. Nurses were coming in and out of her room, so she decided to wait until after dinner, when they would not be interrupted and she could quietly talk to him. As the sun started going down, she went to sleep. She would need all the energy she could muster.

She woke up when dinner came. They ate in silence, their conversation strained and Ruth felt the fire of anger starts in her belly. Anger made talking easier for her. Harry was positively unyielding in his intent not to interact in any way with her. He was lost in his thoughts, she adrift in aggravation.

After clearing the meal, Harry moves the chair from the corner to the middle of the space between the bed and the wall, facing Ruth. She sits straight. Hallelujah, he's finally talking.

"Ruth… I want to tell you. I think it's better… if I leave. You don't need me as much anymore and you…"

That does it. Ruth is now seething. Her ears are ringing so loud that she can't hear another word.

_How dare you, Harry Pearce! You sodding idiot… you complete moron… you thick, dim-witted man… a… a… _

"You're an ass. That's what you are Harry Pearce, a total ass."

Harry stops mid-sentence. "Sorry… what did you say?"

"Oh! Did that come out?" Ruth says with a very innocent look… one just as fake as his disposition had been for the last two weeks.

"Yes it did, Ruth." Harry is quiet and distant.

"Good then."

He wants to leave her here, alone, without him, without Happy Harry. That thought takes Ruth to the boiling point. Volcano erupting kind of boiling.

"Calling me an ass is good Ruth?" Harry has that sweet fake tone akin to 'let's appease the child'.

"Actually my thought was a complete moron, dim-witted…" Ruth says with a sarcastic smile on her face.

"Thank you Ruth, I get the picture." She hears a bit of frustration rising in his voice. "And why would you, all of a sudden, question my mental abilities."

"Oh! Believe me, there's nothing sudden about it. I've been thinking it for years."

A knock at the door keeps her from pursuing her sentence.

_Bugger! Can't even talk in the privacy of my own room. What's next, Tariq? Calum? The change of the bloody guard._

A nurse comes in asking. "Is everything all right here? Do you need anything, Miss Evershed?"

"No! Get the hell out… right now! Oh… and pass the word around that the next person to come in will be shot on sight." Ruth said in a scorching tone, her eyes never leaving Harry's.

The nurse leaves the room without a word. Everyone had noticed the tension between them. It was about time someone did something about it.

To say Harry was surprised by Ruth's reaction was a massive understatement. "Ruth, that hardly represents a proper…"

Ruth didn't let him finish. "Well, news flash, Harry! I don't always behave properly. Not when I'm this pissed off."

"Ruth calm down. It does you no good to get excited. You need to relax…"

When he sees her frown deepening, Harry knows she's not calming down any time soon. "Harry Pearce. If I hear another patronizing word from you, I'm going to slap you so hard; your grand kids will be born dizzy. I've had enough of your fake smile and your fake attitude. This ends NOW!"

Harry just ignores her anger and says. "Don't get all flustered Ruth. It's not good for you."

Ruth just explodes. She couldn't move her arm to properly wave and point a finger at him and that only fuelled her anger. "Get out. I want you out this very minute. You make me mad Harry Pearce. ARGH! I wish I could do you bodily harm right now. Get the bugger out."

Finally, her words reach Harry. He looks sad. "Ruth, don't be like that. You don't mean it."

"I'll be anyway I bloody want. It's not has if you care. Oh… I know. You make sure I have proper care, given by proper professionals, but it's you I want, not the blooming physiotherapist. I want your hands on me, not his. I want the lotion rubbing and the leg stretching… more than anything I want you to talk to me the way you used to."

Harry's eyes widen making his eyebrows lifts but Ruth is far from finished.

"I've looked at you hide and fake being happy and you're not very good at faking Harry. I'm feed up to the teeth of hearing your voice… this… this… poor imitation of the voice I love so much. NO MORE! Harry, I'm not going to stand for it anymore. Aux grand maux, les grands remèdes. (Tr : desperate times call for desperate measures.)

Harry couldn't speak, he was shocked… totally, utterly shocked. Ruth was mad…

_She's so beautiful,_ he admitted to himself.

"Right now, right this instant. We will talk. As in communicate, exchanging words… as in not keeping the lid on the bloody proverbial can. If you don't, I'll have you kicked out of my room for good. We will settle or move on from this, but for the life of me, something is going to happen. Tonight."

She saw dejection his eyes and his shoulders lowering in defeat. She felt her heart flutter a little. She needed to calm down or they would never get anything solved."

Remembering the kettle on the desk, she asks him. "Harry, would you mind making us a cup of tea. Please." She says in a more civil tone.

"Of course." Harry was only too happy to get away from her wrath… which he's surprised to find very enticing.

_I wonder if she's this passionate… in… Stop it you idiot. Now is not the time. She wants you out._

She seizes the moment to relax and get herself together. She had to change her approach. This is not going to work. Not in a hundred years. Facing Harry with anger is only going to push him away.

By the time Harry sets a cup in front of her, Ruth is little more composed. Picking up her cup with both her hands, she takes a sip and sets it down carefully...

"Harry, how long have you known me."

"Euh, about 10 years." He has no idea where she is going.

"And in those 10 years, what opinion of me have you formed."

"Ruth, I'm not sure that this is a good idea. You're still…"

But she doesn't let him finish. With an exasperated sigh, she starts again. "Harry, what kind of person has a post doctorate education, raises through the ranks, hits people with branches, shoots guns, survives kidnapping…" She talks to him like he really is dim witted.

Harry sat straighter a little, insulted by her tone and weary of not knowing where this was going. "I'd say very intelligent, resourceful, confident, brave and daring."

"Now I'm asking again Harry, what's your opinion of me?"

Harry doesn't want to answer her; he has too much to lose. "Ruth, this is not the time. You're still weak and fragile. Please…"

She growled at him. "Harry, you answer me this minute. This is the perfect time. You can't hide from me and I can't run away, blimey, I can't even walk away."

For the first time since waking up, she sees a real, truthful smile on Harry's face and it melts her heart. Ruth knows she can't stop now, she has to push him. She's playing her future here, her happiness.

"How do you perceive me? Answer me, please. This is important to me."

Harry thought for a moment and she sees determination appear on his face. He starts to talk. "You are a brilliant analyst, the best I've ever known. You're beautiful and very caring."

"What else Harry? What do you think of me, not the analyst, not the professional, just me, the woman?"

She loves the little crooked smile he has on his face right now. "I'd say very shy and introverted, secretive even. You're very reserved and modest."

She smiled at him. "Thank you for answering me Harry. Now think about what you just said, the words you used to describe me. Very shy and introverted, secretive reserved and modest. Don't you think, it makes me sound like a heroin from a bad Victorian novel? You've described a Madonna, untouchable, loved from afar and… totally ignoring who I really am."

She took a deep breath. "If it means I'm going to lose you for not being the one you imagine, then so be it, but it will be ME losing you."

Harry almost stood. "You can never lose me Ruth"

She lifts her hand to stop him. "No, please, stay where you are or I won't have the courage to continue." She lowers her hand back on her lap. "What do you want from me, Harry?"

Harry doesn't have an answer so he stays silent.

"Would you like to have a relationship with me, Harry?"

"Of course. I've always wanted that, but you…"

She cuts him. "And would that relationship entails something of a more intimate nature?"

He never thought he'd hear her talk about something remotely sexual, not this fast. "Euh! Eventually it would be nice."

"Just nice, Harry? So, you expect me to lie on my back and think of the Queen while you have your way with me."

"Of course not. That's preposterous. I'd expect you to… participate." He says clearing his throat.

"But you wouldn't expect an introverted, reserved modest woman to… as you say… participate." She hesitates to go further but knows one of them has to have the courage.

"The woman you talk about wouldn't initiate sex, scream her pleasure, wear sexy lingerie, grab you by your tie and have her way with you…. Now would she. You couldn't want a sexual, open woman, could you?" Ruth is blushing furiously by now. She had never been this forward with words.

Harry blushes a little. "Of course I could… and I'd rather she'd be that way."

"But again this isn't the behaviour of the very shy, modest woman. Jane Eyre wouldn't act that way."

Harry started to see where she was leading him now. Did she really think he perceived her in that way? Did he?

"I want the modern normal yet peculiar, beautiful, incredibly sexy woman… that you are…"

"Glad you're with me Harry." Her lips spread in a smile. They are getting somewhere.

"You see the first three weeks; I got flashes of awareness, flashes of my Happy Harry." A smirk appears on Harry's lips at the nickname but he doesn't interrupt her. "He was forthcoming, open and happy. He touched me all the time; told me he loved me constantly, chatted with me about anything and everything. He just talked to me. Then I woke up and he was gone and I miss him. I miss him so very much. I want Happy Harry and the Grid Harry, I want them both. I work well with Grid Harry, we're a great team and I don't want to lose him or lose the way we work together."

She took a moment to get another sip of tea. "In this hospital, I discovered Happy Harry. He's gentle, loving, very affectionate and terribly distracting. I want him in my life, in my heart and in my bed." She was blushing by now. "I want to cuddle in Happy Harry's arms. For a moment, I thought he was a figment of my coma induced imagination. Why did you make him leave Harry?"

Harry is very tentative. "I don't know what to tell you. I really don't. I just don't know how to be with you. I'm always afraid."

"Afraid of what Harry?" She asked him softly.

His answer comes out hesitantly. "Afraid you'll pull away… you'll run from me. Afraid of saying the wrong thing. Everyone knows I have no tact, mix it with my disastrous sense of timing, it's not a good combo."

It was his turn to take a moment to drink from his cup. "There also what we might lose. That's a huge part of it. I don't want to lose you as a colleague and as a friend because I couldn't make you happy as a woman." He lowers his head suddenly interested in the color of his pants.

"Do you love me Harry."

"I love you, Ruth."

"I love you, Harry."

"and… " he asks waiting for her to say something.

"And nothing Harry. Nothing more, nothing less. I love you, you love me. That's all. There's no guarantee, no instructions… just love. We are both intelligent people, we'll figure out the rest."

All smiles, Harry walks up to the bed and sit by her side, he gently lifted her hands to his lips and kisses them. "I love you Ruth, so very much. I can't find the words to tell you how much you mean to me."

"I love you too. I see how much you love me in every smile and feel it in every kiss you give me."

Lifting her hand, she cradles his cheeks and look deeply into his eyes. "You mean everything to me and nothing would make be happier than to love you and be loved by you. Let's use the time we're here to talk and build on that love. It's just you and me here Harry. Would you do that for me… with me."

Harry leans over to kiss her, a long discovering kiss. Lips meetings lips, discovering texture, softness, the promise of more kisses.

"I'd do anything for you Ruth, with you. Anything! You are everything I need. You have my heart. It beats for you, it's filled with you, it only wants you."

"My dear love. I came back to life to love you and be loved by you. Love gave me the strength. "

Harry moves to the other side and lies on the bed, spooning his body to hers, folding her in his arms, crossing his hands on her stomach.

"Ruth. I didn't see a way out of the mess I've created for the last two weeks and you, my brave, beautiful Ruth, you guided me and showed me the way." With each word he was kissing her neck, her cheeks and the roundness of her shoulder.

"I'm so happy Sweetheart; you've made me the happiest man. I love you."

She turned her head so she could see his grinning face. He moves his hand to the back of her neck and lifts her head towards his mouth; he kisses her deeply before whispering to her ear.

"Honey, I believe Happy Harry is back… with a vengeance."


	9. Chapter 9

This chapter is a bit shorter. I had a hell of a day and want to go to bed early. I didn't want to go without posting another chapter.

Thank you everyone for all the reviews. They are becoming a need for me.

The last chapter Ruth and Harry are talking and Happy Harry just showed up.

**Chapter 9**

Harry is on his back while Ruth is on her side; her head laying on his shoulder, his arms has her wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and serenity. She couldn't remember a time when she had felt so comfortable.

"Harry."

His lips against her forehead he is delightfully off center. "Yes my love."

Ruth lifts her hand and cup the side of his face. She gets his attention. She's a bit hesitant, thinking carefully about her words.

"Harry. Why didn't you talk to me. One of the things I love and miss most about Happy Harry is that he would talk to me about everything and anything. You are Happy Harry. You have it in you; I've seen this part of you. Why did you stop talking?"

Harry lowers his eyes into hers. She saw reluctance and dread at first, then the struggle to not pull away to hide. She saw the fortitude in his features. How could simply talking to her, saying what was on his mind be such a battle… still."

"Harry, all I want is for you to talk to me. I need to trust that you will. Promise me Harry. Whatever you have to tell me, no more hiding, no more secrets and no more mask. There is no need for any of this anymore. Remember, I love you, you love me. Simple."

He takes the hand that lies on his stomach and kisses it.

"I promise Ruth, no more hiding, no more secrets and with you, I'm throwing the mask away." She sees him hesitate for a moment then wills himself to speak. "Ruth, I want the same promise from you. No more hiding, no more secrets and no more running away from me. Can you promise me that?"

"I will Harry. I do. No more running away or hiding. So will you answer my question now? Why did you stop talking to me, why did you send Happy Harry away?"

He smiles at her lovingly. "We have to do something about that name. Happy Harry is far from dignified."

She puts her head back in the crook of his shoulder and his neck. "About… hum…" She's drawing little nothing on his chest with the tip of her nail. It's very distracting. "I got it. About Double H." She hides her face in his chest so that he doesn't see her large smile. Then become serious again. "You're evading Harry. Why did you stop talking?"

Harry let the matter of his nickname drop. He has to say the words. In his first marriage he had hidden so much, had kept numerous secrets from his wife. He had done the same, his other relationship. He hadn't been truthful with any woman in this life. All his relationship were based on lies and on him putting on a persona as easily as putting on a suit. Talking about himself, showing another part of him went against the grain of his personality. It wasn't easy.

"I didn't stop talking… not consciously. I just got lost. For so long now I haven't been myself with you. I usually take charge, I determine what I want and I reach for it. I'm in control. Contrastingly, with you I'm indecisive, I'm tentative in my words, not knowing what to say, how to say it, so I falter and wind up saying nothing. I'm baffled as to why I am that way. I can't explain.

"I might have a glimpse of an answer." Ruth was still drawing lines on his chest which was even more distracting, so he took her hand in his and kept it. She didn't notice the motive behind the gesture so she kept on talking. "Your perception of me, Harry is that I am shy, mysterious, someone to protect, a little demure, a woman captive within herself, remote almost withdrawn. Had we moved into a relationship at the beginning, with intimacy, you would have discovered a side of me I keep separate, not inward, not outward, just separate." She kissed his cheek smiling. "You would have discovered Happy Ruth... But we didn't move into a relationship and we started dancing around one another, building images in our minds and in our hearts that were based mostly perceptions. I couldn't be bold or daring because I was afraid the perception I had of you wouldn't approved."

"And I could not be forthright and insistent in my approach because I was afraid the perception I had of you would disapproved." Harry completed her thought."

"Exactly! Does it make sense?" Ruth looks up into his eyes.

"Of course it does Ruth. I've always reacted to others from reading signs, body language, micro expression, making assumption, creating perception and I've always adapted my behaviour accordingly. It might work in the field, but I don't believe it's conducive to a healthy relationship. "

"An old teacher of mine use to say… perception are neither right nor wrong, they are just there and they need to be addressed. Can we address this Harry? Can you act like your true self when with me? I know I can do it, I have done it in the past. Do we trust each other enough to show who we genuinely are."

"I trust you Ruth, like I've never trusted anymore and I've showed you that trust… at work. But talking like this about my feelings, my emotions… finding the words and letting them out. It goes against my character... it's difficult. When you were unconscious, I could do it because there were no consequences, you didn't know, you didn't hear. At least I didn't you'd hear. I was just myself… with myself. But to say it now, has corollaries, you can hear my words and it is a gruelling challenge."

She leans over a little and kisses his lips. "I know. It's difficult for me too, but you have my unmitigated trust. I can tell you, that every time I open up to you, it gets a little easier."

"I promise you Ruth. I won't hide again. I will talk to you, even if you have to hit me over the head to remind me that I can't go on thinking I know what you think or what you want and that I have to ask."

"We have to stop interpreting every gesture and every look. We sabotage ourselves doing it. I remember at one point, it came up to me that I was making myself fit your image of me. Demure, shy and bashful and yet I was required to be confident, poised and assertive in my work. You perceived me to be hopeless, saw me as frail, fragile and dependant and yet ingenious, cunning and brave." He hears a small laugh coming from her. "I get whiplash just thinking about it. All these contradictions. There were so many that I ended up paralysed. Not being able to move because my image of you was twisted by your image of me and I was trying to fit all these controverting insight. Like you, I was paralysed by the fear of not saying the right words or acting incongruously. It took a stabbing, a coma and Happy Harry to bring me back."

Harry moves her closer to his body, his arm a little tighter around her. He gently kisses her lips. "I promise, I will talk, I won't keep to myself. I might forget sometimes, just remind me of my promise and I will unfurl. We have been playing by rules of secrecy for so long; it won't go away just because we want it to. My first reaction will always be to change the subject, to evade. You can't let me do it and I won't let you."

"I love you so much Harry, it hurts." Moving his hand to her flat belly she goes on. "It hurts here, right here. It feel like my body can't contain all my love for you and it's unable to let it out any other way then by making my belly ache."

Understanding light up Harry's face. "My God woman! You're a genius. I've felt it too but could never get my mind around it, find a way to express it. That's it exactly. I love you so much it hurts." Moving the hand from her belly to her waist, a little further onto her lower back, he pulls her on top of him and kisses her. He tastes of love, his soft lips against her pulpous ones were telling her all the pleasure he was getting from the kiss. His tongue slowly invades her mouth in a soul stealing kiss. Her hand moves to wrap themselves around his neck and she gives herself to the feeling. His hands are travelling the length of her back and he is thrilled to hear the some moan that escape from her lips into his mouth.

He pulls a little and covers feathery kisses from one side of her neck to the other, whispering along the way. "I love you so much. I don't deserve you. That I believe with all my heart. But I will do everything in my power, with everything in me to merit your love and never make you regret loving me."

Her teary eyes are fixed on his face, mystified by this man whom she loves more than she thought possible. All her teenage dreams, the dreams that had gently sway the loneliness of her adult life; they fade in the reality of him.

"I love you, Harry. I could never regret loving you. I will love you always and I promise to devote myself to your happiness." She takes his lips as a seal her promise.

She is lying across his body and the assault of desire is fierce. Her hands go from his neck to run through his hair, her nails lightly scratching his scalp. Harry groans with pleasure. His tongue is exploring her mouth, his teeth gently biting her tongue and his body is showing her how much he wants her. She feels his hardness against the apex of her legs and she glorifies in the knowledge that she provoked his response. The rush is unbearable. The ache in her stomach is now a roaring fire. She moves her hand to cover the front of his pants while keeping their kiss alive and not giving into her need to stop and breathe.

They both hear the door. They pull away breaking the kiss and Harry moves her to his side in one swift motion.

A grinning Steven is entering the room. "Hey you two. Enough of that. There will be no act of compromising nature while I'm on duty." If looks could kill the Doctor would have died on the spot from the scolding Harry gives him.

Ruth was giggling. "Good thing I'm not still plugged to the heart terminal. I don't think a trauma team is the ideal constituent to a kiss."

Harry gives her the biggest smile. He is so glad that she is joking about the interruption. He is still expecting her to withdraw into herself. He brushes his lips against her in gratefulness.

"Steven, didn't you get the memo? Anyone entering this room will be shot on sight. Honey, remind me where I left my gun."

Steven's laughs brazenly. "Remember Harry. You're still on my blackmailing kiss."

"Just more reason to shoot…" Harry starts to reply when Ruth interrupts him. "Steven Walker, you are not throwing this man out. You're done with blackmailing this man." Harry smirks victoriously. Ruth hugs him closer to her. "He's staying right here where I can keep an eye on him."

"Better you than me, Ruth. I'm not really fond of Harry's looks." Steven had found out that they both had an enchanting and sharp sense of humour. He moves into the room and sits down to look at them.

"I just thought I would touch base with you two and talk about Ruth's treatment and your expectations."

Harry get out of the bed, starts making tea while Ruth pulls herself up to a sitting position. With their respective cups of tea, they start talking and planning the weeks ahead.

After Steven has left the room and Harry has washed the cups, he turns around to find a devilish smile on Ruth's face.

"Come over here sailor. I'm in major need of cuddling right now. We have talked extensively tonight and we've hardly kissed at all. We have to find some balance." Ruth's girlish pout is more invitation then he needs. His face light up he walks over to her, get into bed and circling her shoulders with his arm, he pulls her into his side.

"Talk about an incentive. If I get such reward every time I talk, I might never shut up."

Ruth wraps her arms around his waist and snuggles comfortably against his body. "That's called positive reinforcement, Harry. It's a new interrogation technique and I'm very good at it. You're doomed Harry Pearce. It won't take me long to know every single one of your secrets."

"I don't mind my love; I don't mind one tiny bit, as long as you only use these techniques on me."

"Don't worry, mon amour. I'm partial to only one middle aged, pouting, and incredibly sexy spook called Double H."

"I love when you speak French to me. It makes me want you more." Harry is too distracted to react to the epithet.

"Je t'adore, mon doux, mon tendre, mon incroyable amour." (Tr. I adore you, my gentle, my tender, my unbelievable love.)

From that night on, every morning would find Harry and Ruth sleeping peacefully in the same bed. Anyone coming into the room would just smile, turn around and leave. These precious moments were too invaluable to be disturbed.


	10. Chapter 10

It's been -30 degrees Celsius for the last four days. The forecast is the same for the next four days and the coldest temperature of the year haven't hit us yet. The pits, I'm telling you. To go out for a cigarette takes a great deal of dedication to shortening your life. Sorry, I needed to vent a little.

How do you make Harry and Ruth move forward. I'm a firm believer in communication, but they don't communicate well throughout the serie. Some might say they don't communicate at all. It is so frustrating to me. So even though, lots of reviewers think I'm not faithful to the character, I think that at some point, they will take the plunge and start talking. Once they start and see that it's well received and wanted, they will keep on going. Human nature, survival of the specie, the need for intimacy, call it what you want, but if a few words can result in incredible reward, physical and/or emotional, anyone would take the plunge. However, this is my personal opinion that I'm pushing onto these two hopeless lovers.

Harry and Ruth get interrupted by the Doctor while in an almost compromising position. They end up sleeping in the same bed, that night and every nights afterward.

**Chapter 10**

"THING."

Harry turned around quickly enough to see Ruth flinging the walker against the wall and slowly taking the two steps to get to the chair in the corner. She had total exasperation written on her face.

"I'm useless… I hate that thing. I almost wish I could go back to the wheel chair."

Harry looked at her, his eyes full of tenderness. It had been three weeks since they had come together. It had been surreal and he was thoroughly happy. Ruth's was making rapid progress. She was controlling her arms much better but her legs were still not cooperating fully.

From the wheel chair, Ruth had moved on to the walker the week before. The same day, Steven had mentioned she could be discharged from the hospital sometimes the next week. Now that day was upon them. Tomorrow they were going home and they had agree they would be going to his home... together.

As soon as the discharge had been mentioned, Ruth retreated from him a little. She still seemed truly happy, but there was something she wasn't saying, something was bothering her. He wouldn't have known a few months ago, but now that he was free to look at her whenever he liked, he had learnt to read her like an open book.

The difference a few weeks made. He loved her more every day. She truly was everything to him. Their relationship had gone from tentative looks to passionate kisses and caresses. The mournful looks of years past were gone and smiles embedded on their face... permanently.

"You're not useless my love. You just have to give yourself time."

"Old people need walkers; do I look like an old woman to you?"

There was no right answer to that question. She was just venting her frustration. Harry walked over and crouched in front of her, holding her hands gently. "What's wrong beautiful. Just tell me. I'll fix it."

She bent her head, her face half hidden by her hair. "Maybe I don't want it fix. Maybe I want to feel depress and sad."

Harry gently smiled. "No! That's not my Ruth. My Ruth loves me and knows I love her and that makes her happy."

She let her hands fell on her thighs, she looked defeated. Oh Harry! Sometimes I wonder why you love me. I'm just moody, on edge. I'm a basket case."

"I love you because you are who you are, moody, bonkers, sweet, caring and beautiful." He took both her hands in his and pulled to lift her up as he stood. Hugging her he said looking into her eyes. "Here's what I suggest. Let's steal a wheel chair and go outside. The fresh air and the sun will do you good.

She just stayed standing against him, her head under his chin, her eyes closed. Harry tried to coax her into it. "Come on honey. We can sit down for a talk… or we could try to find people who look like they feel more miserable than you do.

Still she didn't move.

"Ok, about this. We still go outside, but once there, I sit on the chair, you sit on my lap and we kiss each other senseless."

He knew he had won when he heard small giggles. "Mon chéri, you are so silly but I love you anyway. Let's go. Lead the way."

They went outside and found a grassy patch under a group of trees. He made her stand, sat in the wheel chair and lowered her on his lap.

"Harry, stop that. Let me go. I don't want to make a spectacle of myself."

"How can you not, you are so spectacular in whatever you do." He kissed her slowly, softly.

"Harry." Ruth was wriggling on his lap, trying to get up, but he was holding her down. "You better stop moving like that, or I'll make a spectacle of myself… I'll have a spectacular…"

She quickly put her fingers on his mouth to keep him from finishing his sentence. She had been witness to quite a few spectacles of his. In fact, almost every morning waking up in bed with him, she would feel his… and she knew perfectly well how spectacular he could be. So at once she stopped moving and sat on his lap stiffly. Harry thought this was the perfect opening for what he wanted to ask her.

"Ruth. We promise each other we would push one another. What's wrong? Why is it that every time, we get physical... when it gets heated, you pull away from me. What's been bothering you for the last week?"

It was obvious on her face she didn't expect the question… not at that moment. She took some times before coming out with her usual answer.

"I'm fine Harry. You're imagining thing."

Harry lost his smile, replaced with a frown and a tightening of his lips. "You know it's the first time you've lied to me in almost two months… since you've died. I thought we were done with lies."

She leaned against him, her arm circling his shoulders, her hand meeting behind his neck. She hid her face in his neck.

"I'm sorry Harry. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to lie, but I couldn't answer you."

"All you had to do was simply to say you weren't ready. Please don't lie. It makes me feel like you don't trust me with your words, with your feelings…"

She interrupts him driven by the need to reassure him. "No, Harry. I trust you, I swear I do. It's me I don't trust. "

"Tell me love. What's wrong?"

"I'll tell you but don't question me. It's so... personal... intimate. I'm not ready to tell you more than I can say right now. Is that ok."

"Yes it is… very ok."

She took a moment to convince herself that she had to do it, talk to him. "You see… I've never… I didn't… I'm not… oh! Bugger." She seemed at a complete loss for words.

"Take your time honey. Breathe deeply and just say it. I find that if I don't try to put my words in order I don't end up censoring most of them. I just let the words out, it's easier that way."

She kept her head against his chest, she couldn't talk and look into his eyes at the same time, it was too unsettling. She was afraid of the judgment she might see in them."

"I'm not good… with men. Not good at sex. Here I said it."

Harry had known she felt that way for years. Didn't need to be a genius to see that she didn't believe in her beauty or sex appeal.

He kisses the crown of her head. "You'll have to elaborate. Why do you think that."

"I don't think Harry. I know. I've been told."

"What do you mean you've been told."

"I've been told I was a frigid lay. Those were the exact words. I've also been told that I was a dead... fuck."

She could see anger coming up on Harry's face. She cupped his face in her hands. "Don't be Harry, don't be angry. I don't need your anger right now, I need your understanding."

Harry fell in the pool of her azure eyes and his anger melted. "There are no such things as frigid women only incompetent men."

Yes, Harry would think that. Harry so self-assured in his masculinity, who she's always imagine to be great lover, he would think that.

"No… Harry. I know… I know from myself."

"Explain…" Harry couldn't imagine she was. A touch, a kiss and he felt the rise of desire in her, so strong, overwhelming to him.

"Something… someone… When I was young, my first experience… it wasn't great. After that… the others, they were nice… but…" She was blushing profusely I do feel pleasure, but it never goes any further than the surface. I don't know how to explain it. I enjoy the kissing and the touching, but… intercourse… it's… I…. I don't get what the fuss is all about. Most of the time… I show… more enjoyment than I feel."

Harry wasn't prepared for the statement "You mean you fake orgasms?" he asked totally shocked.

She didn't answer; her face turned a deeper shade of red and she lowered her eyes to fix them on the button of his shirt before saying, her voice almost a whisper. "That's what I do." Lifting her head, she beg for his acceptance with her eyes.

Harry was dumfounded. "You mean... you've never... really never?"

Ruth's face was beet red now, her ears looked feverish. "Never." She had more to explain, so much more. "But with you Harry… with you. I didn't want to... fake. I want the real thing with you. But I'm afraid to fail with you too. So afraid... it paralyses me. It has made me push you away for years. I was afraid that I would disappoint you."

Harry pulled her closer to him in a tight hug. "You could never do that Ruth. I love you too much. You… me… it's about so much more than sex."

"I know chéri, but I want that to. I want it so much. I want to experience what I've read and heard in conversation with other women. I want the yearning, the heart pounding, the sweating, the climbing of pleasure, the throws of passion. I want to feel each and every one of them with you and find them with you… but what if I can't?"

He gently kissed her lips. "I have no doubt we will, together."

"But mon Coeur, I've seen the women you had affairs with, Juliet, Elena beautiful, glamourous, sexy."

"They never had my heart, beloved, never really had my heart.

"Not even Elena."

Harry laid her head on his chest, over his heart. "Elena was a challenge, proving to myself I could attract such an exotic and glamorous woman. She was also using all the tricks in the books to bond me to her. I know now, from what I feel for you, I never truly loved her. Hear my heart Ruth. Do you hear it saying your name."

They were silent for a few minutes, when Harry spoke again.

"You make me feel more pleasure from a single kiss than I ever had with them. I've had sex to satisfy the physical need more times than I can count. This is different. It's sex at a spiritual level."

"But…"

He made her sit straight on his lap, making sure he had her undivided attention. "What if we take things slowly." A puzzled look was her answer.

He smiled at her. "Let's discover one another physically… slowly… step by step. We won't have intercourse until you are ready… but we are open to everything else. Would that be ok with you."

"What do you mean by everything else."

Harry made her stand up to stand himself. He lowered down to the chair before he squatted in front of her.

"Let's not define or analyse this. Let's go with what's comfortable. Just a little more than what we have been doing, which I've been very happy with by the way. Try not to stop and enjoy how you feel. I want to touch you and you to touch me and let it flow as long as it's comfortable. We'll literally feel our way through it. I promise nothing will happen that you won't want to happen."

Ruth nibble on her lips. "But won't you get angry... frustrated... when you… you know… when your… you… react."

"Ruth. Every single time I've slept with you, kissed you or touched you, I've reacted. I'm only a man. I get aroused and can't hide it. The stroke of your hand on any part of my body makes me hard. I will… react to your presence. But don't worry about it. It's not your problem and I can take care of myself. I also don't want you to feel guilty for not... appeasing the need of my spectacular friend. You can befriend him, touch him if that's what you want, but it will not go any further until we are a 100% sure we're ready. I get pleasure from giving you pleasure, you have to believe that and accept what I want to give."

Harry grabbed her shoulders in his hand and looked at her, a very serious look on his face. "There's no way you're faking with me. I hope you know that. No faking Ruth. I need to trust you won't. First of all I would know, you couldn't hide it from me. Second, it would be the worse of lies. The kind of lies that could destroy what we have."

Harry stood up again. "Let yourself go Ruth and enjoy being with me. If I have a problem, I will tell you. I promise you, I will… I will be totally honest with you. Just meet me half way and allow yourself to experience that side of our love for one another. Will you my beloved?"

Oh… si tu savais comme je t'aime Harry Pearce. (Tr : if you knew how much I love you)

"You're doing it again Ruth." Harry made her stand and pulled her hard against him. "You know what it does to me."

"And is it a bad thing that I know… and that it does."

"Not at all, meine liebchen, it's a good thing… a very good thing." (Tr. My love)

Their body curled together, they shared a deep loving and intimate kiss. Standing under the trees, they didn't notice the sun going down, allowing shadows to hide them to onlookers passing by.


	11. Chapter 11

RATED M - for some passage. Be warned.

Tomorrow is Friday and I won't be posting a chapter as I've done every day so far. I'll have one on Saturday, maybe two. The forecast predicts a balmy -7 degree Saturday, back to -30 Sunday. I might spend Saturday outside running errands and enjoying the break from the cold.

Last chapter, Harry and Ruth were getting ready to leave the hospital.

**Chapter 11**

"Harry… you have to." Ruth insisted softly. It had been a little over two weeks since she had come out of the hospital. Tomorrow was Monday and she wanted Harry to go back to work. She had mentioned it a couple of times over the last few days and every time he was adamant. It was out of the question.

"No I don't." Harry replied in a firm tone.

Ruth sighed. She recognised the tone and appreciated that the battle was far from over.

Still using a soft tone, she answered. "You do. You've been off for over two months now, you have to go back sooner or later and sooner would be better… before there's nothing to go back to. I've talked to Tariq and Alec and the guy replacing you is a nitwit… according to them."

"I don't care, not my problem. You need me here Ruth." Harry didn't want to sway.

"You do care Harry, don't lie to me or to yourself."

She had finished her breakfast and was enjoying a cup of coffee, sitting at the kitchen table with Harry. Covering his hand with hers she looked into his eyes and smiled. "I love you dearly, mon Coeur, but I don't need you Harry. I might walk funny and slowly, but I'm quite capable of taking care of myself. I'll be fine."

Harry didn't want to hear about it. "No… what if you fall or you need someone to help you to the bedroom or…"

She gave him a disapproving look. "Harry, enough with the excuses. There's a perfectly good sofa in the living room if I need to lie down, I can feed and entertain myself during the day. I'll be at the physiotherapist every day for half the day and you know how tired I get when I'm done exercising. I'll probably spend the rest of the day reading or snoozing."

"But Ruth…"

"And it's not as if I'm going to be alone. Tomorrow Graham is taking me to my place to get some things I need. He offered and insisted that I'm not to lift a finger. According to his plan, I'm just coming along to point at things I need."

"You've already decided I was going back, didn't you? You didn't plan for me to go with you."

"Yes Harry. If for no other reason then to prove I can be left on my own. So whether you're at work or at home, I'm going with Graham tomorrow and you won't be joining us."

"I don't want you to lift a single thing. I will make sure Graham knows that. You are still convalescing." His words were categorical.

Ruth kept on going ignoring his remark. "Later this week Malcom is coming to spend the day and Catherine wants to have girl time with me."

"Girl time?"

"You know, pedicure, manicure, gossiping about the latest celebrity… girl stuff."

"Catherine is not into celebrities or gossiping. Neither are you for that matter…"

"It's code name for: we want to talk about you, mon Coeur. But don't mention it, it's a secret."

Harry smiled at her. "Only the more reason for me to stay here. God knows what would be said in my absence."

She smiled at him. "Harry. Go in tomorrow, see how things are and we can talk about it during the evening. If I can't do it, we'll talk again."

Harry was aware she wouldn't let him win, so he struck at her defense with the 'little boy' pout, he knew she couldn't resist. "Ruth…"

"Harry Pearce. You're not playing fair. You can't win that way." He had the good sense to look embarrassed, which was even more endearing. She would have to fight fire with fire.

"Mon amour, je t'aime à la folie et j'ai moi aussi une arme secrete. Alors cesse tout de suite de te conduire comme un gamin et va au boulot demain."

"I love when you speak French, your voice is so enticing, so soft and sexy. You know it distracts me and I can't refuse you anything. By the way… what did you just say?"

Ruth smile broaden. "I said: my love, I love you… madly and I also have a secret weapon. So stop behaving like a petulant child right now and… go to work tomorrow."

Harry got up from his chair and went to her. He grasped her shoulders between his hand and pulled her to him. "Say it again… in French." His head was leaning closer.

"Mon amour, je t'aime à la folie…"

She couldn't finish her sentence as his lips seized her in a passionate kiss. She was reeling with the hunger she felt coming from his lips. Her arms around his shoulders, she crushed her breasts against his chest and deepened the kiss, letting her tongue explore his mouth.

Harry pulled away to look into her beautiful face, flushed from the enjoyment, her lips swollen, her eyes full of stars.

"Well my love. If I'm to go to work tomorrow, we have a lot to do today, errands to run, things to plan. Come on beautiful, move!" He said before slapping her backside playfully and walking out of the kitchen.

"Hey!" Ruth sat back in the chair. A large grin still on her face and took a sip of her coffee, pretty smug that she had gotten what she wanted, Harry going back to work. Then she got back in the kiss they had just shared, which had made her toe curl. She went back in time, remembering how far they had come in just a few weeks.

Since their first night home, they had taken the physical side of their relationship to unchartered territory, at least unchartered for her. Honouring his word, he hadn't pushed her into anything she didn't want. Keeping hers, she extended her boundaries of what was comfortable to her. They were sleeping together every night, cuddling and caressing, at first tentatively, getting a little bolder every night.

The first few days had been filled with kisses, embrace and strokes of hands sneaking under clothes to feel the pleasure of their mutual touches. She had been more than willing to participate, her hands roaming on his chest, her lips kissing, nibbling his skin all over his chest and neck. Anything was a pretext to touching and hugging. They would cuddle waiting for the toast to come up or the kettle to boil. They would spend hours, lying on the sofa, him on his back and her half on top of him, half on his side, each focussed on the book they were reading, his hand running the length of her back, her running playing with his hair, resting on his neck. She loved his neck, a man's neck, thick, solid, perfect for her hand.

At the end of the first week, they had gone to bed and she had surprised him by taking off her camisole. She trusted him, wanted him and she felt comforted in the look of reverence he had almost every time he would look at her. His hand had moved tentatively to her breasts as if awed by a masterpiece. He kept telling her how much he loved her, how she was and how much he wanted her. He had kissed every bit of skin available to his lips before focusing on her breasts. When his lips had puckered to surround her nipple, the moan escaping her lips had made him more confident. He had licked, kissed and gently sucked on underside of her breasts, watching and listening for signs that it was pleasurable to her. His tongue has tasted her skin extensively before flipping over her hard and erect nipples. She had felt pleasure swarm her body, compelling her to arch her back and groan loudly at his ministration.

He had kept on worshiping her breasts until she was lost in the pleasure, his name a mantra on her lips. He had started to move his hand towards the top of her legs, but she had tense. Looking into her eyes he had seen the beginning of a fearful look that he had placed there. He had moved his hand back to her breasts, caressing them, massaging them, trying to bring her back in the moment and chase the guilt that had replace the fear in her mesmerizing blue eyes.

"It's ok my love. Don't think about it. Keep enjoying. I want you so much, I sometimes forget my promise to you… for a moment. If I don't stop fast enough, just hit me over the head, that should get my attention."

His humorous reply had had the desired effect. She had crushed him against her, grateful not to have ruined everything. "Je t'aime, mon Coeur." (Tr. I love you, my heart)

His eyes closed, Harry had lost himself in the feeling of her warm skin. She had started to brush her breasts against him, her hard nipples creating a trail of fire on his chest. They had shared the moment, until it had become hard for both to breathe.

The need he had of her was overwhelming. He wanted all of her but knew it was too early. His ultimate goal in sight, he had taken his body and hers down. Once they were relaxed and comfortable, he had gone the washroom for a moment of reprieve. Waiting for his return, Ruth had basked in the aura her pleasure her body had enjoyed. When Harry had come back, they had spooned together and fallen asleep.

Every day and every night brought new pleasures. Early one morning, Harry had come out of the bathroom after his shower wearing a towel around his waist. Casually, out of habit, he had unwrapped the towel to get himself dress. From the bed, Ruth had blushed at his nakedness but had kept her eyes on him. Later on, she had seen Harry naked body quite a few times and didn't feel the need to hide hers as much as she had in the past. They would be talking while getting dress and his hand would bush against the naked skin of her hip or her waist to get by her. She was more comfortable with him than she had ever been with a man.

"Ruth?" Harry voice sounded from afar. She was startled to see him back in the kitchen talking to her.

"Sorry, I was miles away." Her glazed eyes and smile gave him a clue as to what she was thinking. He chose not to question her on it and hope for a pleasurable endeavour later that day.

He cleared his throat before saying "I was just telling you I'm going to shower. Need anything before I go."

Ruth thought about it. They had come a long way and only she could take them further. Her mind made up, she looked at him with a mischievous smile.

"Actually, you know what, I could use a shower myself and my arms not being a 100%, do you think you could offer me a hand to wash my back."

Harry was obviously surprised but exceedingly pleased with her offerings. Raising both his arms, putting up both hands in front of him, he offered. "About two, my love."

Half the morning was gone by the time they were back downstairs.

After dinner, that night, they talked and agreed that Harry would go back to work. Sitting in bed, waiting for Harry, who was preparing his clothes for his first day back, Ruth was deep in reflection.

She was glad that he was going back to work. She didn't want to tell him because it would hurt his feelings, but she missed her solitude, moments to herself, when she could enjoy a long bath and a book, a just chat on the Internet with people she met online and talked with about everything and anything. It was good practice for her language skills, kept her updated on the linguistic trends. It was also a great source of intel. To have the pulse of the people in the street, how they feel about the political or economic situation of their respective countries. She had met some very interesting people online.

She wanted to do things she liked… be by herself. She loved Harry to distraction but going from being alone all the time to having someone by… every minute of every day was a bit discomforting.

They were getting along famously. They both shared plenty of common interest and enough opposites to make conversation interesting. To her surprise, living with Harry was easy. She had expected to feel like a guest in his house, to have him set in his ways and her having to fit his life. But instead, she had found a space ready for her to fill. He had made her feel welcome, had helped her transition with ease and his deep sense of appreciation of her being with him had made her feel blissful of their life together.

She had thought that by now they would have both needed time of their own. It seems she just wanted it sooner than he did. So she wanted him to go back to work and wanted to enjoy the time she had before returning herself.

Harry was also lost in his thought, not really paying attention to the clothes he was choosing for the next day. He felt like he was abandoning her while she needed him. He had sworn to himself that he would stay by her side until she was fully back. He had lost her once and didn't want to risk losing her again. He worried that if he wasn't with her and something happened, it would be his fault. He knew it was unreasonable for him to want to have her perpetually in his line of sight but he wasn't ready to let go yet. He remembered the darkness that had come over him when she died and that made him cautious… obsessively so.

He was also worried about being back on the Grid. The shock that had shaken his body and his soul, when told she was alive, had broken something inside him. He didn't know if he could put the mask back on as completely as he had before. Part of the mask was all he had been able to achieve and that worried him. The hiding of emotions, not showing his hand was part of what made him a good spook.

What if getting Ruth back had killed that part of him? What if he couldn't be ruthless when need be. If he was honest with himself, part of the reason he didn't want to go back to work just yet was that he believe he might not be able to be as good at his job.

Losing Ruth, having her back, loving and living with her now, had changed him.

He didn't want the erratic schedule; the 12, 14 even 16 hours day… he didn't want them anymore. He wanted to enjoy life. He never had that kind of happiness and comfort. He was afraid of losing it to the job. For years now, he had felt tired and weary of the work, but that's all he had, there was nothing else for him, so he had pushed on. Can go on, must go on.

But now it was different. He had a loving woman in his life, one he'd hope to marry one day. He wanted days like the ones they'd had since returning from the hospital, filled with laughter, love, serenity, the simple enjoyment of each other's company…

"Harry?" Ruth had been looking at his back for a few minutes, had seen his shoulder stiffened, hand going through his hair, a familiar gesture, she has seen numerous times on the Grid, a sign of his troubled mind. "You ok, love."

He laid down the tie he was holding on the back of the chair and turned to her. His first reaction was to lie and say he was fine, but she would know.

"Just things I'd rather not talk about because couldn't if I wanted to. You know… Things to make sense of and wrap my brain around. I'll talk about it when I figure it out a bit more. Do you mind?"

Ruth opened her arms, inviting him to her. "You know you can always talk to me if you need things figured out. I'm not pushing Harry, just offering. I can help. I'm told I'm a pretty good analyst."

He smiled, walking over and climbing into bed. "The best I've ever met… probably the best in the country."

"I just want you to know I'm here if you need me." Ruth cupped his face with both her hands and kissed him before she told him. "Now enough of the gloomy mood. You're wearing too many clothes Mr. Pearce." Pointing at the shirt and pants he was still wearing. "Off… now."

"Aren't you a bossy little thing." He replied while shucking his pants and making his shirt fly across the room before climbing back in bed.

"Je t'aime, mon amour. Maintenant tais-toi et embrasse moi pour me faire oublier combien tu me manqueras demain." She pulled him on top of her, taking his lips in a branding kiss, her hands running through his hair.

(Tr. I love you, my love. Now shut up and kiss me to make me forget how much I'm going to miss you tomorrow.)


	12. Chapter 12

**WARNING - M rated for ending scene**

It's still freekinly cold and we got just a tiny bit of snow… which is weird. Cold means sunshine (-10 and colder), warm (0 to -10) means no sun and snow. It's -17 and we got about three or four centimeters of snow. I understand the principle of climate changing; I see it in snow and cold together, but I'm not feeling the warming effect of it. None of us here are! We've hardly have had more than 4 feet of snow since November and had more days below -20 than any of us can remember.

On another note, I've been trying to keep the pace of a chapter a day. With work and life, keeping the pace will, I believe, hurt the quality of the writing. I might take two days now before I post a new chapter. I apologize. Hope you'll still keep on reading. Reviews are desperately wanted, always appreciated and ruminated at length.

Harry and Ruth have agreed he's going back to work and she's spending the day without him around.

**Chapter 12**

"Good Morning Sir Harry. Nice to have you back."

"Morning Samuel. Nice to be back. How are the grandkids?" Harry asked as the guard processed him through.

"They are growing like weeds, Sir. Thank you for asking. Have a good day, Sir."

"Thank you Samuel. Same to you."

Harry went through and moved towards the elevator, not knowing the guard was following him with his eyes. _Whatever happened to Harry Pearce to make him lose his sombre and aggravated look. He should keep it up; he looks better, kind of younger._

Harry stepped onto the elevator feeling the excitement coming through his body. During the two months he had been away he had forgotten the feeling, in fact, now that he thought about it he hadn't felt it for much longer, maybe two years… maybe more. He remembered his beginnings, the moment he would step in the main door of Thames House, he would start feeling the excitement, a pleasant nervousness growing inside, the excited anticipation of not knowing what was going to happened.

Now he couldn't remember the last time he felt or noticed the feeling. He had forgotten how much he loved his job. He truly loved it. When he had joined MI-5 it had been out of sense of duty. Later, he had felt the validation making a difference gave his life. He hadn't thought that way in a few years. He had said the words often, about the duty and saving lives, but he had not really meant the words for a while, it was more a habit then a heart felt statement.

The last two or three years hadn't been much more than a burden on his shoulder. He had felt weary and battle tired. All the people that he lost, the betrayals, they were dancing in his mind intertwined with the hurt he had felt.

Today he felt rejuvenated, as if it was his first day all over again, feeling the thrill, the adrenaline rush inside him. He was ready to take on the world, he felt that excited energy that he had not notice had gone and he now felt had been sourly missed from his work days. Rubbing his hands together, he was ready and he hadn't felt this good about coming into work in a long time. Today was going to be a really good day.

Harry was all around happy… at work and his personal life.

Getting off the elevator and walking through the pods, he noticed the Grid already busing with activities. He wasn't as early as he would normally be, but he had thought of giving his replacement a bit of time to pack before Harry would kick his ass to the curb. The idiot wasn't even in yet.

"Harry! You're back." Tariq said as he step from behind his desk and came towards Harry.

Harry slapped the younger man's shoulder. "I see you haven't lost your uncanny sense of observation Tariq. We'll make a spook out of you yet."

Calum came over, obviously happy to see the older man; he walked over, extending his hand. Harry's surprise was visible on his face. "Am I sacked, Calum?" he asked reacting to the formality of the stretched hand. Calum pulled it back and stuttered a little. "No Harry… I mean… Welcome back Harry." He quickly move away a little. Had Harry just made two jokes, one after the other and they weren't his usual not so funny jokes.

Calum gave a side look to his boss. _Hum… the man has changed. Let's see if it will stick._

Erin walked over, coming out of the kitchen, a cup of tea in her hand. "Oh! Harry. Welcome back. How are you?"

"I'm fine thank you Erin. How are things here? Can you call a meet in… let's say 30 minutes so you can update me on everything that has happened in the last two months?"

"Very well." Erin turned around looking over the Grid. "Ok everyone, 30 minutes, meeting room. Alec, I haven't seen Beth, call her and tell her she better be here in… 20. Dimitri, could you please get Sally from the Registry. Erin new Harry would want to talk to the analyst that had been hired while he was aways, only if to assess how good she was. "Oh and tell her to bring the analysis she did on the bomb threat we had at the Iranian embassy last week." It was her best report so far… that should impress or at least pacify Harry.

While giving orders, her eyes had stayed on her boss who was walking into his office. _He's changed. He looks 10 years younger, he's lost weight and he has a spring in his step. I wonder what Ruth has been doing to him. He has a different energy about him, excited and thrilled. He doesn't look his usual moody and grumpy. I like this improved Harry. _ She crossed her fingers "Here's hoping she'll keep on doing it." She muttered to herself.

Harry entered his office to total chaos. Files were scattered all over his desk, papers everywhere, dirty cups on the table by the sofa… _Some people think lots of paper around make them look busy. It just makes them look unorganized, inefficient and incompetent. _

He sat down, picked up the phone and dialed the Home Secretary. He was connected right away.

"Ah! Harry. Good Morning. Nice of you to warn us about your return. Had I known you were back today, I would have sent a basket of muffin or would you have preferred croissants."

"Good Morning to you, Sir. No need for a welcome wagon, but if you don't mind, I would appreciate a cleaning crew for my office. Could you please send my replacement on his way?"

"So, you're back for good then." Towers' tone had changed from light to a more serious one. He knew Harry's circumstances, what the man had gone through. He needed to know what Harry intended to do.

"Yes Sir, ready and willing to serve." Harry offered as reassurance.

Towers could hear eagerness in the man's voice, one he had not heard from Harry since becoming Home Secretary. "You sound happy to be back Harry."

"I am Sir. Very happy to be back." And for the first time in a long time Harry really meant the words.

He brought his focus back on the conversation and what Towers was saying. "Give Ted the morning to clean his desk and the office is all yours again. "

"Very well Sir. I'll be in the briefing room with my team if he wants to say his goodbyes."

"Very good Harry. Let's meet this afternoon so we can discuss what has happened during your time off. By the way, how's Ruth. I miss my Security advisor and her analytical mind. I couldn't replace her. Nobody can or knows how to do what she does. Her intel is unparalleled and she has the knack to go to the core of thing… whether it's a subject matter or a foreign country's computer."

Towers heard a snort coming from the other end of the line before Harry spoke again. "She's doing fine, Sir. Walking is still a bit shaky but it seem the only after effect of the stabbing and the coma."

"She's a very lucky woman. It could have been so much worse." The HS sounded reflective.

Harry's response was instantaneous. "I thank God every day that it wasn't."

"I do to Harry." Harry heard muffled voice coming from behind the HS' voice. "Sorry, I have to let you go, PM's on the line. See you this afternoon, 4h00." And he hung up.

Harry moved from his office to Erin's desk. "Erin, could you do me a favor. Could you ask maintenance to send a cleaning crew to my office for noon and ask them to do a thorough cleaning of the place."

"Of course Harry. I'll be right on it." As Harry walked to the meeting room, Erin's face broke in a large smile admiring his retreating shape. _Good to have you back Harry._

Sitting in the conference room, Harry, after looking at his watch, knew he had another 15 minutes before his team would come it. He picked up his phone and called Ruth, who answered after two rings.

"Harry… honestly. You haven't been gone an hour and you're already checking on me."

He could hear a bit of irritation in her voice. "Is that a way of greeting the man who loves you more than he thought possible."

"and flattery will lead you… nowhere." Her voice said otherwise. It was working, she was melting and he knew it.

"I wasn't checking on you love, I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you." Harry whispered, looking up to make sure the door was closed.

"Oh… Mon Coeur. You are so sweet, so loveable sometimes." Ruth replied softly. For a moment neither talk lost in the feeling of gentleness they both felt. Ruth was first to pull out of the bubble. "Harry, I have to finish getting ready, I'm running late for my appointment with the physio. I have to go. See you tonight?"

"Yes, my love. I should be home between 6:30, 7:00."

"I'll count the hours. I miss you too, mon Coeur."

"Be careful and do not… I mean it… Do not lift, carry or move anything. Let Graham do it."

"I promise Harry. Sorry, I really I have to go love. I'm going to be late."

"Ok… ok… go! " and before Ruth could hang up Harry added. "Oh and Ruth. I'd like to have a shower when I come in tonight and I'm counting on you to wash my back. Just thought I'd tell you now. Bye." He hung up but not before he heard her laugh and say. "Harry Pearce… you unsuff… "

The thought had Harry's mind in a haze. The day before, they had showered together and for the first time they had seen their naked bodies in their entirety. Harry's smile got bigger remembering. He had thought her beautiful before but her naked form has bewitched him with its curve, the perfection of her skin… she was the type of woman; men wanted to paint or write about. Their hands had not boundaries. After a while, her hand had travelled lower on his body, gently touching his hardness, feeling him grow in her hand. In time, Harry had brought himself under control and kept his touch light and caressing. To him it was all about her getting use to his body to be truly comfortable with him. He had let her leave the shower, saying he would stay a bit longer to shave and he had taken care of himself. Leaning against the wall with his eyes closed he had replayed her touch and the arousal he had felt seeing her body. It had been a remarkable and memorable start to their day. Mentioning he wanted to renew the experience tonight would make her anticipate and picture, who knew where it might lead.

The door to the room opened and Tarip followed closely by Calum came in. Harry was grateful the table could hide his erection. He shouldn't have let his mind wander like that… but he couldn't feel bad. He felt even better than before.

"Yes Gentlemen. Do sit down. Are the others coming?"

The two team members exchanged a furtive look. "Yes Harry. They are on their way." They had talked a little before coming in. There was something different about Harry. They had notice the physical improvement on him, but there was something else. He was the same Harry, stern and down to business… but there was something unidentifiable, something good, they just couldn't say what.

The other members of the team joined him and once they dispensed with their welcoming words to Harry, they started to review the events of the last two months.

_Yes, it's going to be a good day._

"Hi Honey. I'm home." Harry yelled as he went through the door. He heard voices coming from the kitchen. Hanging his coat and dropping his keys on the table by the door, he made his way to the room in the back of the house.

Graham was sitting nursing a cup of tea while Ruth was at the counter cutting vegetables, her walking stick leaning against the counter. Her legs had improved enough to switch from the dreadful walker to a very stylish and lady like cane that Harry had gotten for her as a gift.

Harry walked to her and embracing her from behind, dropped a kiss on her neck. She turned around, within the circle of his arms; she kissed him soundly before speaking. "Bonsoir, mon coeur. How was your first day back?"

Graham took the scene in and thought this was a side of his father he liked. Graham couldn't remember him acting like that with his mom, but then again when Graham was born, the marriage was already on the rock.

"It went better than I thought it would. Nothing happened so it allowed me to pick up on everything I missed. Overall, it was a good day." Harry pulled from her to greet Graham as she went back to her vegetables.

"Hello Son." Harry squeezed Graham's shoulder while Graham returned the gesture on his father's wrist.

Ruth from her post noticed the motion. They were such guys and they had a guy routine. Hugs were for leaving… one brief hug in combination with three medium size slaps on the back. It felt like insurance of some sort… just in case.

Greetings were an entirely different dance. No hugging, just one hard slap on the back or a small squeeze of a shoulder or an arm. If feeling sentimental the squeeze was on the upper arm, close to the shoulder, if excited then it was the lower arm that was touched. Touching the shoulder, like Harry had just done, meant he was just happy to see his son. 'I love you' or emotional words, if said, weren't spoken in her presence.

About two days after the news of her being alive, Harry had come down from his cloud. There had been no hugging and kissing and no I love you, except for Ruth and Catherine who were the sole recipient of such displays. Everyone else was satisfied with the explanation that Harry had suffered a moment of temporary insanity brought on by two great shocks in a very short time. But Happy Harry had the cloud ready to go, every time he was with her.

"Hello Dad. Your charming girlfriend invited me over for dinner. So you'll have to suffer my presence… preferably in silence."

Harry chuckled a little, noticing the glint in Graham's eyes. Since his son had been back in his life, Harry had notice their conversations were often bundled in a give-and-take of humorous put downs.

"What can I say… A man's got to endure what a man's got to endure." Pointing at Ruth. "I want her happy and she seems to like you. I guess I'll have to live with the misery your presence brings every time you visit." Harry lifted his hand to his forehead faking despair. "Oh… the sacrifice I make for love."

Graham laughed boisterously. "Such enthusiasm should not go unrewarded. I'll stay for the evening. We could watch a movie, the three of us… tucked on the sofa."

Harry growled but before he could riposted, Ruth, who was also laughing, put an end to the retaliation. "Why don't the two of you make yourself useful and set the table."

Harry and Graham started moving around the kitchen still jabbing one another. "I like Ruth Dad. Maybe I should try and make a move for her."

"You wouldn't stand a chance son. She has taste, I'm proof of it. She's also very intelligent, so there would be no hope, for her, to be intellectually stimulated."

Graham wasn't finished yet. "I have youth on my side and I'm fun, not like a certain old grumpy spook I won't name."

Harry roared with laughter. Ruth turned around instantly. She loved hearing and seeing him laugh out loud, it was such a happy sound; he looked so young and alive. _God! How I love this man._

"I have experience and know how on mine… and…"

He was interrupted by Ruth voice…

"He's fun… a whole variety of fun… most of all… my kind of fun." She hands stopped chopping, dropped the knive she was holding and lifted it to cover her mouth turning her head to the two men. "Oops… did that just came out."

Surprised, Graham looked at his father, speculating how much fun he could be. Harry moved to her and kissed her neck while his hands were circling her waist to rest on her stomach. "You do marvels for my ego, beloved." Whispering for her ears only. "We'll see about fun later… Remember, I need a hand with my back."

Ruth's cheeks turned bright red. "Harry… behave. We have a guess. Why don't you both go to the living room? I'm almost done. Dinner will be ready in about 30 minutes.

They enjoyed their dinner. The domesticity of the setting wasn't lost on any of them. To Graham it felt like the kind of dinners he rarely had with his mother and father. To Ruth and Harry, it was a sense of belonging… of family.

One more checks on their wish list.

After dinner Harry and Graham were trying to talk Ruth into sitting down. The frown Harry had on his face meant they were not discussing this; she was doing as she was told. "Ruth you go to the sofa and you put your feet up, this minute."

"But Harry…"

"Don't even think about winning this argument Ruth. You had 2 hours with the physio, then you went to your apartment to get your things, brought them back here, unpacked, went to the store for grocery and made supper."

"But Harry…"

"And she wasn't on her best behaviour. "Graham added, looking at his father, who was waiting dreadfully for what was to come next. "Honestly Dad, I think she's more stubborn than you are Dad. I can't believe I just said that, but it's true." Harry gave a look of frustration to the culprit still sitting at the table sipping a cup of tea as they were cleaning the kitchen. Graham spoke again. "I had to physically sit her down. She was trying to move boxes while holding on to her cane." "

Harry turned to Ruth sighing. "Ruth… you promise you wouldn't."

"I know Harry, but I felt useless and your son is not my personal slave, I couldn't let him do everything for me."

Harry's face was showing signs of frustration, a pinch of anger and a whole lot of befuddlement. "What am I going to do with you old mule? The insult was delivered with such affection; it brought a smile to Ruth and Harry.

Graham chuckled. "old mule, Dad…"

"Graham!" Ruth replied immediately in a stern voice. "If you value your life and a relationship with your step mother, you will NOT, EVER, under NO circumstances, use that word in reference to me. Am I clear?" Graham got a look from Harry that meant he had to take the warning seriously or he would also have to deal with his father.

The warning however, was alleviate by the large happy smiles both men displayed. For the first time Ruth had used the term step-mother. Graham was happy that she would see him as her family. It made him feel warm inside. To Harry, it meant she saw their relationship in the long term and somewhat she picture herself as his children ste-mother, a rather official title and she wouldn't have much further to go to see herself as his wife.

They were both looking at her, while she was still waiting for an answer from Graham in acknowledgement of her warning. "Yes ma'am. I won't." Graham saw Ruth relax a little and decide to reel her in a little. "While we're on the subject Ruth, what should I call you? Mum2, wicked step mother, SM, Mummy the sequel."

Ruth laughed. "I'm too young or you're too old for the mum thing. Ruth will do nicely, thank you."

They forgot about sending her to the living room and she stay in the kitchen, enjoying the company and relaxing while her two favourite men were chatting away and cleaning the kitchen. Graham left just before 9:00 o'clock. Ruth had had an exhausting day, so with Harry's help she went to bed to read. She really needed to put her legs up.

Harry had gone to his office and had been there for about one hour. Around 10 o'clock, he came into the bedroom to get ready for the next day and started to undress.

"I'm going to shower, Ruth…" She raised her eyes from her book and look at him. To her, he sounded nervous… hesitant, his shoulders were slightly tense. _How can he still be insecure with me? Why does he fill the need to step backwards instead of forwards? Sometimes I know what he thinks as if it were my thoughts; at other times he's a complete mystery to me._ Ruth knew he didn't want to push her boundaries, her fears. She would have to be brave as it was her problem that made him uncertain of what to do.

"Do you still need help with your back, mon amour." Harry looked at her with an open heart, all the love he felt in his eyes. He replied faintly stumbling on the words. "If you're not… too tired. You had a long day. I understand…"

"Yes you're right. I had a long day and I'm exhausted. My legs are bothering me a little." She noticed his disappointment. "Only the more reason to shower together. I need a shower too and I don't feel very secure on my legs." She felt comfortable using the excuse as it wasn't a lie. She might have overdone it that day, her legs felt like dead weight.

Harry had undress by then and the picture he gave her, in his birthday suit, eyebrows almost meeting his receding hairline, was priceless. She had to keep herself from laughing.

Her answer moved him into action. He went to her side of the bed, he pulled her up, his arm around her waist, taking most of the weight off her legs. "I'll help you; we'll just do this slowly." They entered the bathroom; he turned the shower on and started undressing her while the water was warming up. This wasn't something new. Undressing each other they had done before and she was comfortable with it. She wanted to go a step further tonight.

She knew Harry had been taking care of his needs on his own. She wanted to change that… to do that for him… to give him the pleasure of her touch. She had never allowed herself to explore a man's penis the way she had done the day before. It had been a revealing experience.

It was like the proverbial iron fist a velvet glove, so hard and yet so incredibly soft. She had never felt such soft skin, like silk… She had felt it getting harder and longer in her hand and was surprise at how well-endowed Harry was. He had guided her hand with his, showing her how he liked to be touch. He had been close, but had distracted her by spreading gel on her breasts and lathering the suds all over her. He was bent on waiting for her and not letting go of himself, so she would need to use words.

Harry helped her step in the shower stall, a hand on her waist, ready to lift her should her legs give way from under her. She grabbed his shower gel and started rubbing his magnificent body appreciating the weight he lost, the muscles that were more prominent now. _He's so beautiful, so sexy… and he's mine_.

Once her convalescing was over, with the doctor approval, maybe they could train together… pick up jogging. She was never a strong one for exercising, but looking at his body now was enough advertisement for it.

Her hands were going over his body, spreading soaping his chest, caressing the sinewy of his arms, kissing here and there. Harry's eyes were focused on her. She just held her gently, letting her set the pace. She nipped her bottom lips between her teeth before wetting them a little... From over the crown of her head, Harry couldn't really see her face but he felt her tense.

"What's wrong Ruth."

She looked up to him, her eyes darker, almost cobalt blue, he could see desire awaking in them.

"I've been wanting to ask you. Harry… I know… you know… that you know… so I'd like you know…"

"Ruth, relax… take a deep breath." She did as he said. "Another one now." She breathed deeply again.

"Now, don't think about the words, don't put them in order in your head or even choose a word rather than another word, just let it come out. Think of the larger idea you want to express and just let the words out."

"Harry, I know… you masturbate… when… you know… you get hot and bothered."

"Yes my love, I do. I can't stop feeling aroused around you. I'm sorry if it bothers you."

"No… never mon Coeur. It doesn't bother me. Not at all. I like that I have that effect on you. It's just… maybe I could…" deciding on taking the plunge Ruth let the words roll out of her mouth. "I'd like to do that for you, if you don't mind. I'd like to make you… take you… to completion. That is if you'd want me too."

Harry embraced her in a clinging hug. "You dare asked. Haven't I proven how much I want you. I'd never wanted anything or anyone more in my life… to touch you and to be touched by you."

"You'll need to tell me how. I'm not… I've… never… done it before."

"I will I promise. I want this new experience for both of us, something to remember with fondness… something we shared." Harry said the last few words with an inquiring look. She understood what he meant.

Darting her tongue, she licked his nipples while her hands enjoyed the journey to his hard member. Harry fell backwards against the wall, eyes closed, mouth slightly opened.

"Oui, mon amour. Toi et moi. Ensemble. Mais mon tour en premier." (Yes my love. You and me. Together. But my turn first.) Harry didn't really care about the words she was saying because her hands were playing havoc with his body and mind. She started moving her hand over him while kissing and licking his chest, his neck, grazing her teet on his nipple. He couldn't think even less grasp words in the foreign language, but her voice was just so sexy, he just couldn't resist the overwhelming surge of pleasure that went through him.

When they finally got in bed that night, they weren't wearing any clothes. Skin against skin, their body twinned together, they whispered words of love and gentle touches before falling asleep. They were both relaxed and satiated and the images that dwelled in their dreams were different and yet the same… they were images of the lover they had found, for they had loved one another, found pleasure in one another that night… completely.

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**NOTE:**

It may sound strange but sometimes some words are easier to say in a language that is not yours. I can say fuck in English, no problems, it doesn't really mean as much as if I was to say it in French. I don't say it in French. But when I use it in English, for some reason it's not as bad… I know people around me know what it means… I don't know why I do it and I'm not the only one that feels that way. I have quite a few bilingual friends, we've talked about this and we all came to the same conclusion. It's just the way it is.

I think that Ruth speaking French to Harry has something of that. She's shy and saying the words is hard for her. Saying them in French is easier but it also probably free her. I understand the principle because and please don't ask me why, I do not know the answer, whenever I'm in a relationship I will usually use English, even if my partner doesn't speak it, for words terms of endearment and in… let's say "M" situations… it just come out in English.

I know, I know… TMI. Sorry.

What I just mean to say is that the use of French is not about French, but about Ruth. He loves it because her voice is different, the tone and the rhythm of the words are different, because to him any words would be arousing coming from her when she uses that voice and that tone. She on her part uses French because it's easier for her to say the words and she feels freer saying them. French is also very lyrical which might appeal to Ruth. She has probably romanticised the relationship, so the use of French seemed a given to her.


	13. Chapter 13

**WARNING - M rated for**

It's a pitiful excuse of a weekend. Got a cold. So since Friday I've been through coughing fits, nose blowing, sneezing, aching, fever and total lack of energy. My poor nose hurts and I can't remember what it looks like not red. I'm already fed up of winter and we still have at least two months to go. I'm miserable. Kill me now!

It's a good thing I have Ruth and Harry to keep me company. They are having a great time in general and even a better one in particular.

I know this is my second chapter in as many days and I had said I would post every two days from now on… I didn't mean including weekends. On weekend no rules apply.

Harry has been back to work for one day. Ruth and he took another step in their physical relationship.

**Chapter 13**

Harry woke up early. Glancing at the clock on Ruth's night table, so he didn't have to move, he saw 5h30. He could go back to sleep for another hour.

His body tightly spoon with Ruth's, convinced him otherwise. Her head was resting on his extended arm while one of her hand was laced with his. His hand had captured one of her breast and had kept it confined under his palm. His brain decided to go along with his body and not think about work, the time it was or whatever else might have been important a moment ago. His body and his mind were single-mindedly focussed on the body lying against his.

She is exquisite. Her skin pale and soft, her face was relaxed in sleep. His eyes wandered from her neck to her shoulder, down, the gentle swell of her breasts side… the curvature of her waist… her hips. He feels his shaft swell against the rounded curve of her buttocks and he moves to tuck himself a little closer to her. His brains let a small moan out on behalf of his appreciative body and his ears catches the sigh coming from her… a long, soft, sleepy sigh that arouses him even more. The morning show is about to start.

One of the things he has loved, since the change in their relationship, was waking up to her. She wasn't really a morning person and she didn't wake rapidly. He, on the other hand, would hear the alarm and be out of bed in seconds totally awake. She said on several occasions that it was unnatural to wake up this fast.

Ruth woke up slowly, very slowly… as if done with great deliberation. She would sigh and exhale slowly and start with stretching her toes, wiggling them a little. From toe wiggling then her fingers would start moving as if plucking the string of a violin. This would last less than a minute before her body would stop moving all together. That was the first part of her show. He liked the show; he was spellbound by it, as much now as he was the first time he had had the privilege to witness it.

_Lucky for me! The men in her life were idiots. She exudes sensuality from every pores of her skin. How can anyone think of her as being frigid? _He still didn't comprehend that part of her story. But now wasn't the time to figure it out; he didn't want to miss the second part of her show.

Like a cat lazing in the sun, she would bend and curve her body into a single long stretch. An arms extending, toes pointing, back arching, breasts thrusting, nipples showing… stretch. She's softly inhale one long breath, hold it for 10 or 20 seconds after which, she'd exhale just as softly, and would let go. Her body would slowly go back to its original position, her eyes still closed, her face devoid of expression, but her mouth adorning a sensual smile. It was like looking at a slowly building, softly dying orgasm.

That would get him hard every morning. It was, without the shadow of a doubt, the most erotic thing he had seen and he was resolutely sure, he would ever see. Every single morning she did that and every single morning, he wanted to be inside her to feel it from within her.

One time, after she had gone to shower, he had tried it himself; just to know how it felt. It had felt good, but not nearly as good as it looked for her. The fact that he tried had made him feel absurd, but he wanted to know everything about her, even how waking up felt to her. He didn't think she knew the extent of the power she had over him.

So here they were, greeting the first moment of the day, Harry overcome by the yearning taking over his body, completely bewitched and captivated by her, while she hadn't opened her eyes yet.

"Bonjour, mon amour." Ruth's first word of the morning was the call of angels. Melodious and soft… thoroughly enrapturing. That was the signal of the third and last part of her show.

Almost every morning found them spooned together. It seems that was how they slept together best. Their bodies would naturally gravitate to one another while asleep. Upon waking up, he would enjoy the first and second part of the show. Then he'd wait. The third part would sometime be delayed as she would go back to sleep. Most of the time she'd keep on waking up and after her morning greeting to him, almost always: bonjour mon amour.

She would raise her hand, move it to his neck and pull his head in the crook between her shoulder and her neck. His reaction was invariably the same; he'd start kissing her skin. Feeling his lips, she would make that little humming sound of pleasure and start swaying slowly. Her backside would get deeper against his stomach and his now hardened manhood, she would move her hand everywhere she cold on his body without moving hers. The humming would turn into sighing as his hand would caress her breasts, her stomach, coming up to catch her throat in his palm.

And every morning, it took everything in him, all his extensive control, not to enter her from behind and make her his, to become an extension of her.

She'd move slowly, slithering against him, both arms reaching to circle his neck, driving her breasts into his hands. He would obliged her and start a gentle massaging them, lightly plucking her nipples, at the same time, he'd keep on kissing her neck, sucking her ear lobe. She would move her neck to allow him better access and still her eyes wouldn't open. His hands would roam along her body, caressing her thighs, her hips, her skin soft and inviting. Her hand would go around to his firm butt and pull his closer to her, wanting the intimate contact. Then she would start purring, an honest to God purr…

Every morning started that way and this morning was no different… and yet….

His hand moves between her legs and brushes against the curls, softly caressing squeezing her mound, for both pleasure and to give her time to grant permission or refusal. She exhales a moan. Her hand moves from his buttocks to his shaft, fisting her hand around it, she strokes his length deliberately slow.

It's his turn to moan. He needs to see her eyes in pleasure. He moves her flat onto her back at his side. He can't wait… His lips move to her breasts, taking as much as he can in his mouth, sucking and flipping his tongue over and across her nipples. His other hand hasn't moved yet still brushing and kneading her sex. She moans again. He lifts his head to look at her. Gasping softly, she licks her dry lips. He groans and closed his mouth over hers. Her eyes are still closed.

"Open them Ruth. I want to see your eyes. Look at me, show me your pleasure." He pinches a tight nipple. She moans, her head arching back, offering the column of her throat to his lips. His hand keep on squeezing her labia, following a rhythmic beat of his own, her legs spreading a little revealing she wants him to keep on going. Through the squeeze one of his finger sneak between her lips and gently press its pad against the small bundle of nerves. Her moan turns into a groan, the purring is getting louder.

She had admitted, never really being vocal. She could have fooled him. Every stroke, every touch, every kiss was always combined with a sound. Whether in excitement or abandonment, she would sigh, moan, whimper and these were his greatest rewards.

The pad of his finger keeps making circle on her clitoris and her hips start swaying of their own volition. Her hand is following the same cadence on his penis. His lips couldn't stay put, he bites her ear lobe, kisses her neck, her mouth in toe curling, soul stealing kisses. He can't stand it anymore.

"Do you trust me." He whispers against her temple, his breath shallow and hot on her cheek.

"With my life." Is her immediate answer.

"Nothing more will happen, I swear, I just need to feel you under me, moving, taking me on. Please don't be afraid, you're safe with me." As he keeps reassuring her, he moves his body on top of hers, his legs on the outside, tightening hers together. His hand goes down her body and he spreads her lips to tuck his hard rod between them and he starts moving. He never thought this simple act could bring him so much pleasure. Her warmth, the wetness… _Oh God_! His penis is throbbing, his brain on overload. Keeping most of his weight on his forearm, he rubs his length against her pulsating clitoris.

"Oh! Oh! God Harry! Her moans are louder, she starts moving against him.

"That's it, Ruth. Take your pleasure, open your eyes my love, show me." His gaze captures her and neither will let go, their eyes possessing. "You feel so good… Yes my love, that's it, taking me on… take your pleasure."

Her eyes are riveted with his and her movements are getting harder and shorter, having lost the softness of before, they are now demanding, claiming him. He sees the pleasure climb in her eyes, reaching unprecedented heights. She's stunning, she's resplendent and she's close. Her body seizes with jerks, growing in numbers and in strength.

"You are so beautiful my love. So very beautiful. I love you… I love you. Come for me, please. Let go Ruth, just let it take over and reach that peak."

"Harry… Harry…" She repeats his name over and over again, like a leitmotiv on her lips. "Harry… Harry… I can't… it's… I'm…"

"Don't worry my love, I've got you. I'm here to catch you. Just let go, let yourself fall."

"I can't… I can't…. not enough." In a move that totally shock Harry, she arched her body and flip them on the bed, pushing him to his back and straddling him. She cradles his shaft in her hand and presses it against her core and she starts riding him, racing her climax.

He had noticed before that whenever the pleasure was too great; her instinct would take over, her body commanding. The shyness, the uncertainty, whatever inadequacies she believed she had, would evaporate.

She's gloriously out of control and more beautiful than he had ever seen her. Legs on each side of his hips, hers are rocking against him, she's stroking herself with the hard length of his manhood, back and forth in a maddening pace. He grabs her breasts with both hands and she fixes her hand to his forearms for leverage. He pinches her nipples, tweaking them between his fingers, she moans feeling his erection growing. He couldn't keep his eyes from her and neither could she. He feels her wetness going down the inside of his thighs and the eroticism of the moment makes his body spiral in his need for release. She's holding his shaft firmly in place, rubbing against it, harder… faster… always faster. She feels the pleasure climbing; she feels pressure, a tightness she has never felt before. It feels like the string on a bow, ready to break…. He catches her wrists, stilling her movement; he takes over, rocking his hips back and forth, gaining momentum, her wet hot core driving him to madness.

Ruth puts her hand on his chest, moving as much as she can in counter point to him. "Harry… please. Now… please… please." Harry sucks in a deep breath, grips her hips and pushes himself hard against her… and pushes again and again… one more time.

And she loses it in a loud wail coming from the back of her throat. The pleasure hits her with a blast. "HARRY!" She screams his name and that's all he needs. "Bloody hell." He bits out, his hips grinding against her. He feels the tightening, the blood rushing. He pushes one more time and let go. He growls and come with a feral ecstasy. He shakes as his climax tears into him and she falls on his chest, her mouth on his, her tongue invading his mouth in the wetness, hottest kiss he has ever received. She places her head under his chin, her hands and arms abandoned on each side of him. He wraps his arms around her, crushing her to him, his hand moving to slide over her bare back.

"Wow…" is all she can say.

"Wow indeed." He replies as he keeps her body against his, not letting go. He feels small rivulets of wetness running down to form a wet spot on the sheets, the ultimate proof of her sexual nature.

_Frigid my ass. She couldn't if she tried._

She raises her hand to his chest, evidently a very heavy hand judging from the effort it takes her to do it. She moves it to his neck and up in his hair, playing with the wet strands.

"That was… I never… this is…" She trying to catch her breath, panting hard.

He chuckles a little "Yes it was… it is… good, extremely good… better than good. You are something else… you know that. I never expected…" He feels her back stiffening under his hand.

"Was I too… I shouldn't… should I have…" she whispers, closing her eyes and hiding her face against his chest.

He grabs her hand; bring it to his lips and kisses her knuckles. "Look at me Ruth. Please, sweetheart, open your eyes and look at me." She can't resist his request, she meets his gaze. He can see shame and guilt in her beautiful eyes.

"None of that honey." He brings his index to tap the tip of her nose. "Ruth… I love you from the bottom of my heart, I love you. I would never lie to you. I'm saying this now… never be afraid of what you do with me. Never… This is us, it's special and nothing we do out of love could ever be shameful. I love everything we do… what we just did. It blew my mind… in a good way. In case you haven't notice. It was the best damn orgasm I've had in years. It… was… amazingly… gratifying… and… satisfying. Each word is said with a kiss on her lips.

"But I saw the shock on your face. I just couldn't stop myself… but I saw." Her eyes still have shadows of doubts.

"Honestly honey… what you saw is not what you think. Shock it was, but not at what you were doing… it was realizing how much you trust me… how far we've come… I never thought you were ready. I thought I was going too far, too fast by moving on top of you, but I just couldn't stop myself, I had to know, to feel you." He kisses her hair

"So I did good?" she asks, she looked so proud of herself.

_She's so beautiful, how can I be this lucky._ He feels humble by her love for him. Hugging her hard against him, he finds his voice to say. "Good doesn't even start… you did fabulous my love. Anymore you'd kill me with pleasure. The wet, now cold, spot under me is a testament to your outstanding efforts." He laughs, not knowing why, it just feels right to laugh… it feels liberating… he keeps on laughing.

She looks at him curiously. He loses himself in the depth of her eyes.

"I don't know my love. It's not the cloud, it's something else. I felt it once before… when I found out you were alive. It's like something breaks inside of me and is set free and it comes out in a laugh. Can't explain it. I'd call it euphoria for lack of a better word. I'm deliriously happy, my love."

"So am I, mon Coeur, so am I."

They don't move for a while, just relishing in the joy of their bodies together. He keeps on running his hand up and down her back, over the swell of her backside and up to her shoulders.

"I feel like a virgin." He laughs again. "I'm discovering myself. I never thought it could be like that. This shouldn't have been enough… with you, it's mind-blowing."

Her eyes still closed, her hand is exploring his face, cupping his cheek, fingers running along his forehead, his eyebrow as if learning his face with her hand, her head too heavy to lift and look.

Harry takes a deep breath and let a sigh of contentment out; she wiggles her hips a little and giggles.

"You, Madam, are insatiable. I've created a monster."

"And you've only got yourself to blame." He feels her lips spread in a smile against his chest, just as big as the smile on his face. "I'm a genius."

She points out. "We better get up Harry. It's almost 6:30, you don't want to be late on your second day of work."

"Plenty of time my love. The driver will be here at 8h30."

Ruth crosses her arms on his chest, and put her chin on her joined hands. "Usually you've been at work for at least an hour by 8h30."

"I know, but things have change. Yesterday was an eye opener." His eyes are closed and he's bone relaxed. He doesn't see her questioning glare but he recognizes the tone. "What do you mean."

"Before you died… I'd come in early, leave late… the job wasn't much more than a burden I was carrying on my shoulders. The weight of it all was making me cranky and angry. I thought I was effective but I had no enjoyment of my work. I used to but I had lost it in the last few years. If I'm honest, I'd say I stop enjoying my job when you left in exile. I would go to work because I had lost the only thing that mattered in my life.

He opens his eyes and lifting a finger to stop her from commenting. He moves his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and keeps on talking.

"Yesterday, when I went in, I felt the enjoyment and the excitement again. It felt good to be back at work. It wasn't a burden anymore. I was more relaxed and happier with my life. As the day went by I realized that I was a much better boss and a more efficient spook that way. My mind wasn't clouded with the guild and the memory of all the losses, it was sharp, focus and quicker for some reason."

"Yes… I've notice the same thing. Lately I seem to see correlation everywhere, as if I can't stop the ideas or images from moving around in my head and connect together."

"For me it's about thought process. I'm much quicker in my thinking; my reflexes are better than they have been in years. I feel 10 years younger."

"You look 10 years younger, mon Coeur. You look better than you ever did since I've met you. You're a lean, mean, happy machine and it suits you well." Her hands were drawing little nothing on his chest. He grabs it in his, not wanting to be distracted from what he wants to tell her."

"I had a meeting with Towers and we talked." The feature of his face showed uncertainty. She knew what it meant.

"Do I still have a job, am I going back to the Grid… what decision you made for me."

"I would never…"

"Cut it out Harry… you could. Just tell me… spill it out."

"I just informed him that from now on, I will start around 9 o'clock in the morning and be out between 6 and 7 at night bearing emergencies obviously. He's agreed. I also told him that I intend to take my annual leave every year, which I need to function better. I may have implied that you'd come up with similar requests."

"I see." He didn't risk looking at her, he is afraid she might be angry at his presumptuousness. "Perfect then, I won't have to confront him about it and I'll be able to spend time with you.

Harry exhale soundly. "I'm so glad you're not mad."

"I'm not this time Harry, but do keep in mind that this is the 21st century, that I am my own woman and please, refrain from making decision for me."

"I will… I promise." His fingers were tapping on her back… Whenever he was nervous or apprehensive he would make words in Morse code… when thinking he would just tap none sense. He is tapping non sense right now.

"A penny for them." She asks.

"Remember, there was something I couldn't talk about… said I'd make sense of it and talk to you once I did."

"I do remember."

"Yesterday, back on the grid, I made sense of it." He moves her to his side, placing her head on his shoulder and kept on running his hand on her back. During your recovery, I had time to think. I also had time to see the changes in me. I was afraid I couldn't put the mask on. I need the mask to be a good spook. I didn't know if I could do my job properly. Yesterday, I had the mask on… it was the same old face, the same old mask but it wasn't the same. The energy was different... The burden didn't feel as heavy and I felt eagerness. I think that being rested and happy made me feel excited about my work again. I wasn't haunted by every people I loss, questioning every decisions I ever made, feeling guilty about the past. It's not in the fore front of my mind anymore…"

"It's not?" Ruth was shocked by his admission.

"No… You are my love… and how wonderful our life is, how even more wonderful it will be… how happy I am. It's like a happy serenity took over. It's hard to explain. I don't think about it, it's not on my mind… it just is. My mind is clear of all the negative noises. Oh… they're still all here" he says putting his finger on his temple "just not all the time and it doesn't plague me as much."

Harry took a moment to put his thoughts in order. "I'm happy Ruth, I like the way I feel. I enjoy training and the way I look and feel physically. I don't want to give that up for 16 hours days. I want time for myself and time with you. I know it might sound selfish and I guess it is, but in the end, Happy Harry makes Grid Harry a better boss, a better spook… a better human being.

"I love you Harry. You are truly the bravest man I know. To face your demons and come out on the other side stronger and at peace… Incredibly sexy, mon Coeur." She kisses him senseless, proving her point. "As for being a better boss and spook. I'll have to judge for myself. I forgot to mention. I saw Steven yesterday after my physio session. As of next Monday, I'm back at work."


	14. Chapter 14

I have the mother of all colds… which is why I didn't post anything in three days and probably also responsible for the typos, even though I've revised this chapter at least 5 times. So here I am with chapter 14. Sorry for the delay.

Reviews are the salt to my food, so please, let them roll in. I really enjoyed all the inputs and the advises I get from reviewers. I think my writing has improved because of these.

The last chapter is about Harry and Ruth enjoying a more physical relationship. So is this one… so…

**BE WARNED… this chapter is rated M.**

**Chapter 14**

"Stop it. Harry"

"What?"

"You know what!"

"I'm sure I don't."

"Double H out… GH in."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

Harry looks at her sitting on the other side his desk facing him. Her eyes are fixed on him and her features are showing signs of frustration. She leans against the back of the chair and crosses her arm against her chest. He feels like a child about to be admonished by the Head Mistress.

He sits there with a look of total innocence on his face. "What?"

"Harry, it's not funny. You have to stop. You are distracting me and make it very hard for me to work. I thought we agreed."

Harry bends his head a slight blush on his cheeks. "I know… I know… I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never been like that. I saw you come through the pods and couldn't think about anything else but to make love to you."

"I'm flattered Harry… but I came here to have a meeting and do my work. So far it's not happening. I can't work with you, when you're like that. Is this going to be a problem?"

"Of course not." It couldn't be… he never had a problem keeping his mind on the job before, but then again, he hadn't been with Ruth before.

Ruth looks at him. She understands how he feels. She loved him so much; sometimes it was hard to function normally. It had been 5 months since her stabbing and life was good… very good. She has been back at work in the Home Secretary's office for a little over a month now. Life at home and at the office have merged beautifully but there were obviously still some adjustment to make.

She discovered Harry to be a gentle, patient and passionate lover. She had never felt that way before. The physical side had never really been important to her… before Harry. With him she discovered her body… his… discovered she was passionate too, which was a shock. Where there was a small window before, now a door was open… a very big door… a very big double side door.

"Stop that!" It is now Harry's turn to mutter the words. "You have that look… you know the look, the one you get when you just thought of something to do to me." Ruth fixes her eyes on him. "Yeah… Ruth… THAT look. See I'm not the only guilty party here."

Even though she was still the shy, modest woman in public… Harry was amazed how the insecure, fearful, hesitant Ruth, had been slowly replaced, in their personal life, with a sensual seductress. She played the role as if she had written it. They had started slowly but by now had explored each other's body in every way, except for penetration. His patience had paid off. Ruth was comfortable with him, initiating sex, more often than not. He found she had a very healthy sexual appetite and was now very good at getting what she wanted. She had let herself go and enjoyed every single minute.

He was amazed by the result. She had liberated herself, no bar held. Masturbation, which had always been a somewhat shameful act to her, was now a pleasure given and received. Pleasing herself while he watched was one of their biggest turn on. For the last few weeks, they had been exploring oral sex and he had to admit that he was extremely happy and even more astonished at how Ruth had taken to receiving and giving.

They had made love in every room of the house, chocolate and cream had been part of quite a few sessions. They had played roles, used blindfolds, tie each other to the bed, massaged, caressed, kissed and licked every inches of their body. Sex was fun to them. They had smiled at their enjoyment, laughed at their exuberance, they had tried things that work, others that didn't… and throughout they had found each other… over and over…

They had yet to have intercourse. He wasn't in a rush to get there. So far his patience had paid off, in more ways than he had ever expected; the road to the ultimate goal was a very pleasurable one. He had never been more satisfied sexually.

He heard Ruth's voice. "Stop that. You have that smug smile… you know the one… the Cheshire cat and a very big bowl of thick fresh cream." Harry sighed soundly.

An hour or so later, Ruth was picking up her coat ready to go back to Whitehall.

"I'll see you at home… around 6:00?"

"Actually… before you came in today… I was thinking…"

"Hmm…"

"I'd like to take you on a date, Ruth."

She didn't get what he was trying to say right away. "We live together Harry, as in the same house."

"I know Honey… but we never had that second date. I'd like to date you… woo you."

Ruth giggled a little. "Woo me? How Victorian of you Harry."

He looked at her pointedly. Ruth gazed into his eyes. "What is this about, mon Coeur."

"I… we… never had a chance to date… you know… I never properly courted you. We don't have stories of how we met and fell in love… nothing to tell the grandkids."

She thought she couldn't love him more. He was adorable… so romantic. "When…"

"About tonight. Presumptuously, I booked us a table. I think you'll like the restaurant. It's a small Provencal one."

"I'd love too. What time should I be ready?"

"I'll pick you up at 6:30. The reservation is for 7:00."

She grabbed her files and hand bag. She walked over to his side of the desk and leaned over him, as he was still sitting. "I'll be waiting for you, mon amour." She kissed him gently and turned over to walk out of his office when his voice stopped her.

"And Ruth." She didn't turn around to look at him. "Yes, Harry."

"I'd like a third, fourth and fifth dates… In fact, if you don't mind, I'd like to make it a weekly occurrence. Once a week we go on a date."

Her smile grew bigger. "Whatever you want Harry." She walks out on the Grid, through the pods and left, never turning around to look at him but knowing he was looking at her.

Tonight is the night. It is their fifth date and more importantly, it has been six month to the day, since she woke up in the hospital and they have been together ever since. Harry has a special evening planned and by the end of it, he is going to propose to her.

_Tonight, she's going to say yes… _

He is ready, waiting for her to come down from their room. He has the ring in his pants pocket. The reservation is for 8:00 and they have plenty of time as it is only 7:00. They are going to the same restaurant they went to on their first date… years ago. It's Saturday; no work the next day, his timing is perfect.

He hears footsteps coming down the stairs and he looks up. She wears an off shoulders, dark blue dress. Her shoulders and neck are bare showing great extent of tantalizing skin. The dress is fitted across the bust, close to her waist, and flares at the hips to flow to her knees.

"You are impossibly beautiful."

She blushes and smiles. "Thank you, mon Coeur. You really like the dress?"

As she comes down to the last step, he took her hand in his and says. "Very much so… I'll be the envy of every man in the restaurant."

The restaurant is just as they remembered. The food is incredible, the service impeccable, the wines are exquisitely paired with the dishes. The conversation flows naturally, words are exchanged, but looks and smiles are saying even more.

After the meal, they go back home. Both are looking forward to the second part of the evening, for different reasons but aiming at a similar result… a night of passion. When they entered the house, he helps her out of her coat, kissing her neck and shoulders.

"I've been wanting to do this all evening."

She turns around and putting her hand on his chest, a sensual smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eye, Ruth speaks. "I've wanted you to do that, since I bought the dress."

"I aim to please." He put his hands on her waist and kisses her neck.

She pulls away, putting a finger on his lips. "Patience, mon Coeur… I would like some time to myself. Why don't you take Scarlett for a walk? That way you can take your turn after you get back." She lowers his chin and kisses him after whispering against his mouth. "Meet me in our bedroom afterwards."

He takes her hand in his and kisses it. He then kisses her mouth, a long, invading kiss. "I won't be long." As far as he's concern, it couldn't fit his plans more perfectly. He follows her with his eyes, enjoying the gentle sway of her hips and moved into action as soon as she disappears.

"Scarlett… Go for a walk!" Scarlett knowing the words, runs to him, he puts the lead on the small dog and leaves for the park. It's a rather short walk… about 15 minutes only. He's got a lot on his mind. On his way up the drive way, he opens the boot of the car where he finds the ice box he hid earlier. He grabs a wrapped bouquet of violets, a bottle of champagne and a small bag of ice cubes and moves into the house. He locks the door, set up the alarm and takes the lead off Scarlett who follows him into the kitchen. He grabs a wine bucket from the cabinet and two flutes that he places on the table. He pours the ice in, plants the bottle in the middle and gently takes the flowers out of the wrapping.

_Everything is ready, just perfect… Now it's time to move. She'll never know what hit her._

He goes up, get change into his dressing robe and come back to the kitchen. He picks up the champagne, the two flutes and the bouquet. He can feel the small jewellery box in the pocket of his robe, thumping against his thigh every time he climbs a stair toward the second floor.

_She's going to say yes this time. How could she say no. Champagne, flowers and a romantic speech. _

He gets to the landing at the top of the stairs. A small beam of light comes from inside the bedroom, through the slightly ajar door.

_I don't think she expects this. She will be so surprise._

He opens the door and almost drops everything on the floor. He's lost his capacity to breathe, think or walk, so he just stands there in the door frame… flabbergasted.

Ruth is lying on the bed, in the most… the sexiest…

"Wow… … … Wow… WOW!" His brain has evidently taken its leave.

Ruth gives him a seductive smile. She wears a black bra with small lavender flowers embroidered along the top; the same design replicated on the top of her panties and that's all she wears. She is half lying, half sitting, in the middle of the bed, her arms extended on each side, her chest out, one of her leg bent at the knee, wearing the most unpractical, raciest, most erotic pair of black high heal mules. Very provocative yet classy. She is seduction incarnate.

"My God woman… you'll give me a heart attack." Harry gulps, his eyes filled with undiluted desire, he didn't think she could be more beautiful or more desirable, she just proved him wrong. He feels a tremor going through his body. He wants her… just as simply as he wants his next breath, he wants this exquisite woman. He still hasn't moved.

Her eyes gaze at him before she talks. "Harry, I'm ready."

He comes into the room, places the bucket on the night table. "Yes beloved. I'm ready too."

"No Harry… I'm ready." She says again. With her eyes she's trying to make him understand something. "Mon Coeur. Il est temps." (Tr. It is time)

His brain clicks, his breath caught in his throat. "You mean…"

"Yes Harry. I want us to make love… all the way."

"Oh, Ruth. Are you sure… we can wait… if you're not." That would surely kill him but he would do anything for her.

"I want to be yours, mon amour, and I want you to be mine."

"I've been yours, since the day you came into my life. I just want to make sure you are ready… that you don't feel pressured… by me…. Into…"

She gives him a tender smile. "If I didn't know better I'd say you're nervous, Harry."

He couldn't keep the words unsaid. "Terrified… aren't you?"

"Strangely, I'm not. I want you. I really want you, with all that I am." Nodding at the champagne and the plate in his hands, she asks. "Great minds think alike. Celebrating something, Harry?"

"Six months ago today…" he says "I came back to you." She completes his avowal.

He leans over the bed and gives her the flowers. This is the moment… it feels like the right moment.

"You look stunning my love. You are a siren… a temptress… You're beauty is unparallel. He kneels on the bed, his eyes gazing along her body.

_She is perfection embodied_. _Feminine, exceedingly sexual, with a hint of innocence, such a strange mix but very much my Ruth._ Coming back to her face, he plants his eyes in hers so she could see he is talking from his heart.

"I love you Ruth. Six months ago, you gave me your heart and a purpose to my life. I gave you my heart and you've held it in yours, like a precious treasure. You made me shed my secrets and open myself to love and happiness. It would be my honour, if you would consent to spend the rest of your life with me." As he is talking, his hand goes to his pocket. The meaning of the moment dawns on her… he sees her becoming nervous… emotional… her eyes are getting teary.

He opens the small box and holds it to her. "Will you be my wife, Ruth? Will you be forever my beloved?"

He sees the nerves go away, the tears are forgotten, all that's left is the love she has for him, in her eyes, in her smile. Neither will ever forget that moment.

"I do… I will…. Yes… Yes… Yes…"

She kneels on the bed facing him. She takes his face between her hands to kiss him with all the love she feels. He takes her hand, she pulls back a little, sees him put the ring on her finger.

"Oh… Harry… it's beautiful." The Asher cut blue diamond is flanked on each side with two smaller round diamonds. It is simple, beautiful and it fits her perfectly.

Her arms encircle his neck. "Oh Harry. It's truly beautiful, I love it."

"I love you, Ruth. You've just made me the happiest man." He kisses her.

She kisses him back. "And I love you Harry Pearce… my fiancé." A large smile spreads her lips.

"My Fiancée." Harry says the word with reverence.

Her arms still around him, he lets himself fall backward taking her with him until he is lying on his back and her on top of him. They kiss for a long time, caressing each other's body, moving around the bed, feeling skin against skin. Harry is naked, having been divested of his robe by his beautiful Fiancée, but Ruth still wears her bra, her panties and one mule.

"Your shoe dropped… should we get rid of the other one…"

"I'm glad you mention them. I bought them at the same boutique I got the bra and panties. It took me a long time to decide if I should buy them or not." She's talking too much, not the nervous Ruth's babbling, just conversational as if he is interested in her shoes, which he's not.

Harry is now kissing all over her neck, along her collarbone, running his tongue over the edge of her bra. "Beautiful shoes sweetheart. They truly are beautiful shoes." His voice is muffled as he kisses the skin between her breasts, pressing the globes with both hands against his face.

"Hmmm… I didn't buy them because they… hmmm… are beautiful… Hmm…" She pulls his head up by his hair and brings his face to hers in order to get his attention and keeps herself from being distracted.

"I've been told every woman needs a pair of fuck me shoes." She talks very slowly, putting emphasis on every word, as if Harry is a bit slow. He isn't slow… he's in the Twilight Zone. Why the hell are they talking about shoes? She has stopped him for shoes… really!

"Fuck me shoes?" He questions.

She looks him in the eyes… "Those are shoes…" She kisses his forehead "or rather a signal" she kisses the tip of his nose "from a woman to her man" kisses along his cheek "that there is 100% possibility" she bits his earlobe lightly and whispers in his ear. "That his woman wants to be fucked" Ruth says the last word very slowly, making it almost two, putting a somewhat strong emphasis on the last syllable.

Harry is dazed… no blood in his head… totally, absolutely devoid of blood. "100%... Fucked?"

"Yes Harry… thoroughly, utterly, exhaustively…. Fucked!"

"Keep the shoe Ruth." He attacks her neck with his lips, turns their body over so she is on her back now and starts kissing her everywhere. Her eyes close against the outpouring of arousal. She feels a ball of ache in the pit of her stomach and wetness gathering between her legs.

"Oh Harry…"

His firm lips keep their gentle pressure, covering her skin while his hand are lowering her panties from her hips, down her legs… When they get at knee level, she lifts a foot, grabs the panties with her toes and sends them flying to the floor. Harry flips their body once more to access the back of her bra.

"Harry…"

"Yes Ruth… in a minute."

"Harry…"

His lips keep kissing her, travelling from lips, to jaw, to the dip of her collarbone, to the swell of her breasts.

"Harry…"

"What Ruth!... He's getting frustrated that the bra is still on.

"The front Harry."

"What front…?" He stops, he had to, beause there was no way he can do two things at once… he's too far gone for that.

"The bra, Harry… it clips in the front."

It finally gets through to Harry. "Why didn't you say so." He smiles. He flips them yet another time, finding himself on top. He finds the clip, opens it and pulls the fabric away. "Aahhh." He sounds as if he just found a long lost treasure. Ruth teases him. "See, it wasn't so hard."

Harry teases her back, rubbing his lower body against hers. "I'd say it's pretty hard."

Ruth pulls him to her, enjoying his weight, his skin against hers. She wraps her legs around his body and slaps his butt cheek. "Get on with it sailor. Time to do the deed." She laughs… a deep sexy chuckle. He loves it.

"Patience my love, I want to make sure you're ready… I don't want to hurt you…"

Ruth cuts in. She's not in the mood to be patient. "I've been ready for the last 6 months, mon Coeur, any more ready I'll flood the room. I want you inside me Harry… all the way inside me."

He doesn't have it in him not to do as she asks. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her hips rocking against him made it impossible not to do as she asks and he pushes himself slowly inside her.

"Kiss me, mon amour… give me your mouth." She sighs when his tongue plunges and takes possession of her mouth as his hardness is taking possession of her."

"Oh… you feel so good, mon amour." Ruth is holding on to him, afraid to be cast away from him, taken by a wave of blissful pleasure.

"You're so beautiful, my love" Harry answers hoarsely, pushing inside her still… so very slowly. "Oh my God, Ruth. You're so tight." He gasps. His voice has a hint of delicious torment. She feels him slide deeper into her. She sucks in a deep breath, feeling divinely stretched, feeling Harry deep. He gets to the very end of her and starts pulling out just as slowly almost all the way out and pushes back in again in one hard, long and so very slow thrusts.

"Oh… Harry… this is torturous. Faster please." The heel of her mule is planted against the skin of his backside and she's pushing him further inside her.

"It's so good… You feel… Ah! So good."

Harry feels his control slip away. The scent of her lust makes his head swirl, her skin is flushed and her nipples are engorged delightfully scratching the skin of his chest. His moves his hand between her legs and with the pad of his thumb he begins to massage, in slow circles, her throbbing clitoris.

"Oh… Harry. I can't… it's too much… I'm going… to…"

"It's ok my love, I'm here… I'm with you."

She opens her eyes and looks at him. He is magnificent, glorious; his powerful body strained with the primal urge to possess her. A gasping cry escapes her. She's undulating under him, squeezing, quivering on the edge of a powerful orgasm. She rocks her hips harder, faster, ridding his thumb circling and brushing her small bud… she's lost into the pleasure, her body having taken over, her primitive instinct commanding. She lifts her arms towards the headboard, trying to grab onto something, but she finds nothing. She moves her hands to his shoulders and digs her nails into him.

Harry is moving inside her with maddening rhythm. Fast burst, slower ones, long and short, he's not thinking about technique… he just is. The crushing need to mate with her is overpowering, to feel her around him is all that matters. Feeling her nails dig in, the mixture of pleasure and pain makes him lose what little control he had left. He starts moving faster, pounding into her, like a mad man.

"Oh… yes, Harry, yes… harder, please, harder, faster… take me, take me Harry." Words are flowing out of her mouth.

"Ruth… I'm not going to last… I'm sorry… It's just… so… good."

"Let go, mon Coeur. I got you… just let go. Please, please… it's too much… harder Harry…"

Harry moves harder between her legs, his body a single extension of his manhood. His eyes go wild; he feels her clench around him, grabbing his thick shaft and holding it inside… her beautiful face is transformed with the ferocious force of her climax. She opens her mouth, bites her lower lip… Her body tenses, arches, pushing against his. She grabs him by the neck and lowers his mouth to hers. She shouts her pleasure in his mouth, while kissing him with all she's got. She breaks at the height of the wave and falls over the edge, her body revisiting, on its way down, each plateau it had climbed, each step, seizing her body with jolts of intense pleasure. Her body falls on the bed, her hand off of his neck and she lets the feelings go through her body, consuming it.

Harry feels his taut body plunging into her once more. It's his turn to violently shudder. She crushes him as she climax. He can't move. He stops, he can't thrust or moves she caged him inside her. He just stays inside, as far inside as he can go, arcing his body, straining to get to the peak in an exquisite last struggle to get to the crowning of his pleasure. He feels her fall, he thrusts one more time and his release is grandiose. He pours himself into her and the pleasure takes over. His shaking arms can't take his weight anymore, he falls on top of her, having the presence of mind toflip their body so that she rests on top of him while he is still imbedded in her.

For a little while they catch their breaths, giving time for the blood to return to their brain so that words are possible. They are both spent and deliciously satisfied. Their eyes closed, they smile.

Suddenly, Ruth laughs, long and hard laughs… loud laughs…

Harry eyes on her are full of merriment, he knows… "Euphoria beloved?"

Ruth stops laughing, surprise stilled on her features. "I… I didn't know I was laughing until you asked… but it's… I feel lighter."

Harry kisses her deeply, his tongue battling her, delighting in the wetness and the softness of her mouth. "I know how it feels… Very liberating… isn't it."


	15. Chapter 15

I've been down for the count all week. Nasty cold. Missed two days of work and I'm late on posting. Sorry about that. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Reviews are important. I need them to encourage, motivate, propose, correct this story I'm writing. I already know how it will end, the path there is not so obvious. At first I thought about 7 chapters. By chapter 9, I thought maybe 2 or 3 more chapters. Here's chapter 15

From last chapter, Harry proposed (better timing and setting), Ruth said yes… they are both back at work.

**Chapter 15**

"Harry?"

"Yes Ruth."

They were having breakfast sitting at the kitchen table. He was reading the morning paper while she was looking at him. He was so beautiful. Her eyes caught the sparkle from her hand and looked at the ring on her finger. He had proposed the night before and she had said an unmitigated yes, several yes in fact.

"Are you happy?" She asks still looking at her ring.

He drops his paper, folds it and give her his undivided attention. He knows Ruth never asks questions without reason. Did she doubt he was happy? Did she think she wasn't enough?

"Happier than I've ever been in my life." He said taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

"In both your personal and professional life?" It was obvious she has more questions where the first one came from.

He has no idea where she's going with her questions, he thinks easiest to cut to the chase. "What is it Ruth? What are you trying to ask me in your own oblique way?"

She fiddles with her napkin, picking up crumbs with her index and wiping them off on her plate with her thumb.

"Do you… I mean… have you… it's just…" Judging by the amount of stuttering, this was not an easy question.

"Ruth, remember what I told you, don't play the words first, just let them go."

She takes a deep breath. He can see in her eyes she's trying for find her courage. "Do you remember the day I d… I was st… that day"

"It's my personal and constant nightmare. Why?" Harry doubts that she would remind him of that horrifying day without a good reason.

"Remember what we talked about… before… just before." She sees the light flicker in his eyes.

"You mean about leaving the service together?"

She lets a sigh of relief. He doesn't seem angry or disappointed.

"Yes… "

"I thought you were happy." He looks uncertain now.

"Oh Harry… I AM happy… deliriously so."

"Why then." He seems puzzled by her line of questions, so she decides to make her point as quickly, as painlessly as possible and go straight to the point.

"I died Harry… I died. What if you died and don't come back… I couldn't live without you. Aren't we tempting faith?"

Harry takes her hand in his, his surprise evident. "Last month… You… you seemed so happy to go back to work, I thought that's what you wanted."

"I just want to be with you. You were back at work, so I wanted to be back… and… I thought that's what you wanted…"

Harry let out a soft whispery laugh. "I just want to be with you."

He stands up and offers his hand to her. She takes it and walks into his embrace. He kisses the top of her head. "We both have changed in the last 6 months, obviously not enough."

"I wanted to give you what you want… make you happy, mon Coeur."

"I was trying to do just the same for you, my love."

Ruth smiles at him. "Obviously we are not very good at guessing what the other wants."

Harry beams at her. "Indeed…" He hugs her to him, tucking her head in his neck, he whispers. "O. Henry."

"The gift of the Magi." Ruth pulls away and smiles at him with all the love in her eyes.

He places a finger under her chin and looks at her beautiful face. "I sold my grand-father's watch to buy combs for your hair and you cut your hair to buy a chain for my grand-father's watch."

She kisses his lips softly. "Harry… we've got to stop keeping secrets from each other."

"I know. I thought we had move beyond secrets and not expressing things."

Ruth cups his cheeks with her hand. "That's us… one step forward, two steps back."

"So… we're leaving the service." He closes his eyes and rubs his cheek in the palm of her hand.

"I guess we are." She circles his waist with her arms and pulls him tightly against her. "I'm so scared of losing you Harry. I don't want to stay. If I had a choice, we wouldn't have gone back…"

She hears a dry chuckle coming from him. "We are quite the pair, my love. I didn't want to go back. I want nothing more than to devote myself to you and your happiness."

She pulls herself away from him and walks to the hutch to open a drawer from which she pulls out a pad and a pen, before moving back to the table to sit down. He walks up to the counter to make them tea.

Ruth starts writing. "Item 1, two resignation letters. I can write both if you want."

"If it's no trouble… Sure. You know… you can write one, cut and paste and just change your name for mine." Harry enjoys the idea of identical letters. It would spell out, to the power in place, who he's leaving the service for and with.

"Item 1 check."

It's his turn to speak up. "Item 2. From this day on, I solemnly swear to not keep secrets from you and never to try to guess or to think I know what you want. I will use my words."

"Motion carried. I solemnly swear… Diddo." She smiles to herself. This was probably the hardest thing they would have to overcome. They had kept secrets for years, even their love had been a long kept secret.

"We'll have to make ourselves out of love instead of secrets." She says remembering her words from that faithful day.

He places two cups of hot tea on the table. He kisses the top on her head before he sits down opposite to her.

"Won't be easy… you know that." Harry says looking deep into her eyes.

"But we can do it." She takes his hand from across the table.

"We can do anything we set are mind to." He entwines his fingers with her.

"Item 2, check."

Harry laughs at the seriousness of her face. "Are you going to itemize the next 20 years, Sweetheart."

She takes her eyes off the paper and up to him. "Face it Harry… you're a tactician, I'm an analyst. I think I've just found the perfect mean of communication between us. No guessing, no interpretation, no manipulation, a clear, define list of simple facts. You never know, it might actually work."

_She may have a point._ He thought. "So… what's item 3 then?"

"Item 3, where do we live and how do we do it? Suggestions?"

"UK or abroad?" he asks.

"I'd prefer UK… you?" Ruth was usually not this forward in her opinion. She would wait to see what he wanted and say what she thought he wanted to hear. He was happy to get her truthful answer. This list thing had potential.

"I'd say live in the UK, but travel abroad… once or twice a year. During the winter preferably."

"Agreed!" She wrote down the word, he smiles tenderly. They were planning their lives like a proposal to a committee… but by God it was working.

"Where in the UK?" Her voice brought him back to the list. They went at it through the morning, ate lunch while discussing item 5, cleared the table and washed the dishes, while deciding to add Item 11 to the list. Overall it was a good list. It was a mishmash of decisions for their future life.

_**Item 1 – Resignation from the Service. Same letter for both. **_

_**Item 2 – No secrets, no guessing, no interpretations of looks, words or gesture. No presumptions.**_

_**Item 3 – South coast of England. Not too far from London, no more than two hours from Harry's children and both their friends.**_

_**Item 4 – Harry's house on the market within a week. Ruth will look into disposable funds from the sale of her house (before her exile) and from her mother's house (after the came back). **_Ruth's insists on that point. She wants to pay her share of the house.

_**Item 5 – Getting married within the next 6 months. **_He wanted 2 weeks, she wanted a year, so they'd get settle first. They agree on 6 months_**.**_

_**Item 6 – Find an old cottage with little repair preferably. **_They are desk spooks after all, limited when it comes to handy work.

_**Item 7 – Balance nutrition, exercise and lots of sex. **_Suggestions comes from both parties and there are no real discussion on the topic._** Subsection Item 7a - Never go to bed angry, never use sex as a bargaining chip and no sleeping on the sofa as retaliation. **_They are both steadfast on that one and there is no real discussion on it either.

_**Item 8 – Out of this world, borderline insane security system on the house. **_Brought forward by him as his pet project he could have with a few of his friends. _** Counter proposal: Yes to the security system, but no alarm connected to the DOD or CO19, no automatic or large calibre weapons and no air missile defense system. **_She wins, he pouts.

_**Item 9 – No more than 2 dogs and 2 cats, no other species. **_She insists that this item is retribution by Harry for not getting all he wanted on item 8.__

_**Item 10 – Having his children over for dinner at least once a week, every two weeks if they were more than 2 hours outside of London. **_Her suggestion. She was unbending on that point and he loved her even more for it.

_**Item 11 – Date once a week. **_That item was already in place, but they both thought it would be nice to add it to the list.

_**Item 12 – Stay off work one year before one or both parties can find a new job, as long as it doesn't involve working more than 8 hours a day, being shot, kidnapped or if any type of weapon comes with the new position.**_

_**Item 13 – One cock up free pass per month. Total lack of tact or appalling timing would have to be forgiven upon using the pass. Cock ups don't include adultery or crimes punishable by law, in which case reprisal are to be expected and would be of the most violent consequences for the guilty party. **_The first part of the suggestion had been from Harry… for Harry. However, the exclusion and possible punishment was entirely Ruth's.__

They had finish cleaning the kitchen and were having a cup of tea when item 14 came on the board. Ruth was the one to bring it up.

"Item 14 – Children."

Harry almost choked on the sip of tea he had just taken. "Hum… children?"

"Yes… Harry. Do you want any? How many would you be willing to have?"

"Do you want a child… I mean… you haven't had… and I thought."

"I asked first Harry. Kids… yes or no. First reaction."

"First reaction. I'd love to have a child with you, to see you big with my child… Wow… it would be…" He had the most endearing, dreamy look on his face. His features changed after a minute or two, showing concerned. "But I feel selfish as I don't have to carry and deliver the baby… Honestly, I didn't think you wanted any so I kind of crossed it out of my list."

"Why would you think that? I'd love to have children with you Harry. I've always wanted children with you… I've dreamed about them…. Just couldn't think to have children with anyone but you."

Harry was moved by her loving words. "I just thought that if you had wanted a child, you would have one by now… that you're getting older and maybe…"

"To quote someone I dearly love, do the words scatting, thin and ice means anything to you, mon Coeur. You wouldn't want to use your cock up free pass so early on… would you?"

"What I mean, my darling fiancée, is that you might feel like it's too much, too hard that you might be too tired to do children at your age." As soon the word came out of his mouth, he saw precisely aimed bullets in her eyes… all aimed at him.

"My age Harry! Ruth voice is shrieking. "What do you mean too tired at my age. What about your age… my not so young yourself friend."

Harry shakes his head. "That's not what I meant…" Looking at her smug expression he points a finger at her. "No… I'm not using my pass. Just hold on." The frown on his forehead got a bit more pronounced as he is trying to find the right words… the appropriate words.

"I can't find a politically correct way of saying this. I just thought you felt it was too late for children."

"I'm only 41 Harry… I can still have a child, maybe two. But then I'm 41. Not much time left in my child bearing year, we'd have to have them pretty soon or not have any."

"We haven't been exactly careful, Honey." Harry pointed out to her. "Are you on the pill?"

"No." The surprise on her face made it clear that contraception had not been on the forefront of Ruth's mind .

"In case you haven't notice, we haven't used condoms. So for all we know you might already be pregnant." Now that the subject had come up, there was not point for Harry to state the obvious.

Ruth's look is enough to make him shut up. She picks the pen back in her hand. "So… what do I write down?" Her questioning look is expecting him to give an answer. He doesn't have one at that moment.

"Let's say…" Harry gets up and starts pacing while she follows him with her eyes. She knows pacing helps him think. "Got it. Write this. Item 14: Children. We let the chips fall."

"Is this your brilliant idea, to let the chips fall. You paced for this? You couldn't think of a less insightful way to express that thought?" Ruth looks at him like she doubts he has a brain.

"Do better, please. Show me the extent of your writing skills." Harry is a bit put off by the smirk on her face.

"Very well. Item 14 – Children. Mandatory baby making sessions for a minimum of one hour every morning and one hour every night until, but not limited to, the occurrence of pregnancy."

Harry's smile spreads so wide, she thinks it might swallow his ears… He leans over and takes her lips in a melting kiss, his tongue brushing hers, invading the hot wetness of her beautiful mouth. He pulls away slightly.

"Your writing skills are so much better than mine, my love. There not in the same time zone… not in the same galaxy. " He kisses her again while his hands are moving up from her waist to her breasts, caressing them over her clothes. His mouth moves from her lips to her ear lobe.

"May I suggest we adjourn this session of the committee to the bedroom for the afternoon."

She lifts her hand and places it on the nape of his neck, pulling his mouth to her lips. "I believed that so far we've done our best communicating on this table, maybe we should stick to it."

His hands goes to her blouse. Without bothering to undo the buttons, he lifts it over her head and nuzzles at her breasts while his hands are busy taking off her bra.

Harry growls. "Agreed!"


	16. Chapter 16

**_I wasn't happy with Chapter 16. So I rewrote it… I shouldn't have posted it in the first place. Here's the new version of it. It will still need some editing... I just wanted to be done with the old chapter 16, but not leave an empty space. _**

**_Last chapter… Harry and Ruth plan their lives in a rather… analytical way._**

**_Chapter 16._**

It's early morning and Ruth is putting a load in the washer when the doorbell rings. Scarlet, sitting by the door to the back, makes a jump and runs to the front door. Ruth gets there a moment later and opens the door.

"Catherine. What a nice surprise. Come in, please."

Catherine hugs and kisses Ruth on both cheeks. They have become fast friends while and after Ruth was in the hospital. They had lunch and tea several times and had talked for hours. When Harry went back to work, Catherine would spend the day with her a couple of times a week. As Ruth wasn't exactly mobile at first, they didn't have much to do other than talk.

For Ruth, it felt nice to have a girlfriend… with her working hours she didn't have the luxury of bonding with another woman, talk about the little things as well as the big ones. Ruth had never been a girly girl and lucky for her, neither was Catherine. They both had a love of old movies, used book stores and Harry Pearce. He was their number one topic of conversation. They were good together.

Ruth's relationship with Graham was good, but nothing as tight as with her new girlfriend and step daughter. They had become confidantes and trusted one another.

"Please, go through. In the kitchen if you don't mind. I'm doing a load of laundry. Tea, Catherine?"

"Get your load in, I'll make the tea." Said Catherine with a smile. "Where's Dad?"

Ruth answers from the back room. "He's just gone for errands… Grocery shopping. It's been a hectic week and we have so much to do before work tomorrow."

Ruth enters back in the kitchen, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her hand catching the sun.

"OH MY GOD, RUTH! Catherine squeals looking at Ruth. "He didn't… yes! He did. My father is a genius."

Ruth's puzzlement shows clearly on her face. Catherine points at the older woman's hand. "That, Ruth… What is that?"

Ruth moves her hand in front of her and smiles "Oh! The ring."

"YES… THE ring… He proposed. My dad proposed, didn't he." Catherine is ecstatic.

Catherine's pure delight is slowly creeping on Ruth who starts to giggle. "Yes he did. You're father's a romantic. It was a really wonderful proposal ever. A definite improvement from the funeral proposal. They had discussed Harry's earlier proposal of marriage.

Catherine lets out another loud squeal and crushes Ruth against with all her strength. She grabs Ruth's hand to look at the ring. They move to sit down at the table.

"So… tell me everything. How did he propose."

"He went for dinner first, same restaurant as our first date. He proposed once we got back here and I said yes."

"My God Ruth… This I could read off a box of cereals. God's in the detail. You can do better than this."

Ruth walks to the counter and starts making tea, Catherine forgot about when she saw the ring.

"Dinner was amazing. The food was incredible and the atmosphere very romantic. Afterwards, we came back home. I went upstairs and he took Scarlet out."

Catherine stops her. "Now too much details Ruth. I don't really care about what Scarlet was doing when Dad proposed."

Ruth sighs. "When he came up, he had champagne and the most adorable bouquet of violets. My favourites. He then kneeled and started talking. He told me that when I gave him my heart, I gave his life purpose and that his heart was mine to safeguard…. And…" Ruth was choked up reliving the beautiful moment, she couldn't continue.

From behind her, Catherine hears her father's voice.

"Catherine. How nice to see you." She gets up to kiss her father. He looks at Ruth and sees how emotional she is.

"What's wrong love."

"Nothing, mon Coeur… No really. I was just telling Catherine how you proposed and I got all choked up thinking how romantic and beautiful it was."

They both saw the pride on Harry's face. Catherine couldn't stay quiet.

"Ruth and I agree that it's a definite improvement on your first proposal."

She sees her father blush and turns to his Fiancée.

"You… you… told her?"

Ruth blushes with embarrassment. "She pulled it out of me…  
I just… her… she could teach interrogation techniques, she's really good."

Harry laughs. "She learned from the best… She was on the receiving end of said techniques when she was young."

He looks at both women with a tender smile before saying: "I have bags to bring in. I'll be right back." And he walks out of the kitchen. Catherine follows him to give him a hand, while Ruth starts unpacking. Harry comes back with a few bags. From one of them, he pulls out a bottle of champagne.

"Could one of you put the champagne on ice for later? I still have a few bags to bring in. I'll unpack the grocery and we can have champagne to celebrate our engagement." He walks up to Ruth and kisses her deeply, tasting the sweetness that is her. He wraps his arms around her and dips her, taking possession of her mouth, his tongue engaging with hers in a delicious mêlée.

"Hey… you two. Dad, please. You're supposed to be… more… restrained." Catherine is warmly smiling at the scene.

"I've tried restrained Cat… didn't work for me. I believe it's overrated." Harry pulls away from Ruth, gives a playful slap to her back side before he walks out of the room. "Be right back love."

Ruth looks at his retreating back, a hand rubbing the cheek of her butt. "How can you not love that man."

Catherine looks at her, shaking her head. "Ruth… he's got you good… But it's ok… because you've got him good too."

Harry keeps on bringing bags in the kitchen. At one point, Ruth looks at him and all the bags in the kitchen…

"Harry… What's all this. There's enough food for an army."

Harry is a bit embarrassed. "I might have gone a little overboard."

"You think! There's like 10 bags. I'm not sure there's enough space for all this." Ruth is standing in the middle of the kitchen looking at all the boxes of all shapes and sizes, all over the counter and table. "It looks like a grocery store exploded in here."

Harry looks at her. "I was going through the aisles and I thought we could throw an engagement party next weekend. So I bought a few things we might need for it. What do you think?"

She walks up to him and taking his face in her hands she kisses him gently. "You are so… so… I don't have the words."

"Infuriating… frustrating…" Catherine peeps.

"Adorable." Is Ruth's answers and she kisses him again.

By the time the grocery is put away, Ruth has invited Catherine to spend the day with them and stay for dinner that evening. She also calls Graham to invite him over that evening.

Grabbing a pad and paper, Ruth comes to sit down at the table, nodding at Catherine to join her.

"Ok… We need a list of everything we need for the party. Item 1…"

She has said it without thinking… but then she remembers how they had spent their time after making their list the day before. She blushes and focuses on the paper lying on the table in front of her.

Harry turns around abruptly, looks at her, heat and desire in his eyes. His thought remembering the same moment. He walks out of the kitchen dropping on his way out. "We're going to need more champagne… for the party… I'll go get a case."

Catherine is baffled by her father's quick escape and looks at Ruth for an answer. But Ruth is no help. Her head is bent over her list, she looks like she's writing the most important document ever written, while her face looks like it's burning.

"Ruth… why…" Catherine starts asking. She's going to need all the interrogation techniques she learned.

The dinner that night is a joyful one. Catherine and Graham are happy to share the moment with Ruth and Harry. They are told about the impeding resignation, the sale of the house and the move outside of London.

Things are moving so fast, but they've wasted so much time, they are not wasting a minute more.

"We are giving notice tomorrow. If we're lucky we should be able to leave in two weeks… a month at the latest." Harry is hoping Erin will be replacing him, making the need for a long notice unnecessary.

"And you are not stepping outside your office for the whole time. I'm not risking you getting hurt." Ruth is unwavering about it. She had mentioned it as soon as they had started to talk about resignation.

"I said I wouldn't…" Harry is a little put off. He thought he could enjoy some field work before he retires. He wanted to have some fun before leaving.

"You did, mon Coeur. But I don't trust you. You have that look on your face… like it's the last innings and you want to have the most runs."

Harry had the good sense of looking remorseful. "I'm not going to endanger myself. I promise. But you have to let me enjoy my job for my last days in it. Ruth…"

"Let's talk about it later… shall we. We have company and this is not something we are going to agree on quickly."

Catherine decided it was time to change the topic of conversation. "So… the wedding. What are you plans?"

Ruth looked up at Catherine, a large grin on her lips. "I've made a li…" Looking at Harry she blushes and starts again. "I've written down a few ideas… Your father and I agreed on a wedding within 6 months which doesn't give us a lot of time. I'll need your help Catherine."

"Count me in. I'll be there for you Ruth. We're going to have a blast."

Graham and Harry looked at each other… "It seems our company is no longer desired. About, you and I, son, take Scarlett for a walk, while these two talk chiffons and flowers."

The women don't even notice them leaving, so enthralled they are in the wedding planning.

A week later, Ruth is taking an empty tray of hors d'oeuvres back to the kitchen, going through the living room where all their friends and family are gathered. She's checking on the food heating in the stove as well as replenishing the serving plates on the table, they moved against the wall to create a buffet area. They wanted the evening to be an informal affair… People filling their plates and moving around.

Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves and there's no shop talk. All members of the team made it, as well as Harry's children, Malcom, a few of Harry's friends from the army and a few of Ruth's friends from GCHQ and Mi-5.

Ruth has removed her ring and given it to Harry for safe keeping. They don't want it to be notice and give the plot away. Both the engagement and resignation have been kept secret during the week. It wasn't has hard as they thought it would be to keep secrets from spooks, but they did it.

Harry looks at Ruth from across the room. He nods at her and she nods back and she moves to his side. He digs her ring out his pocket, slides it back on her finger and holds on to her hand.

Harry raises his voice over the buzz of conversations. "May I have your attention, please?"

The room quiets down.

"Ruth and I have an announcement to make." He clears his throat before continuing. "Last week, I asked Ruth to marry me and she has accepted. You're all invited to the wedding."

Cheers erupt across the room. Malcom is heard saying that it's about bloody time, while Beth shouts a resounding Hallelujah. Everyone gathers around Ruth and Harry, kisses on the cheeks and hugs for her; handshakes, slap on the back or punch on the arm for him. Champagne corks are popping all around and the mood is buoyant. The happy couple is accosted by every single guest. The happy couple is obviously very happy.

About an hour later, the commotion over the engagement has died down a little; Harry takes center stage once more. "I'm sorry, but we also have a second announcement." Harry takes a moment to get everyone's attention.

Calum's voice pops up. "Ruth's pregnant."

"No… Ruth's not pregnant." He thought for a second than turn to her "You're not… are you?."

She raises her voice. "I'm not pregnant." She sees the shadow of relief on Harry's face. She'll have to ask him later.

"So… not pregnant. But Ruth and I would like to tell you all that we are resigning from the Service."

Everything stops dead. The silence is deafening. Not a peep, not a squeak. Harry and Ruth exchanged a look not knowing what to think. This was not the reaction they expected. The stillness of the room is becoming creepy.

But dear Calum saves the day when he whimpers… "No… no…. Mamma Bear, Papa Bear… you can't."


	17. Chapter 17

I'm over the worse of my cold. Not back to normal yet, but getting there. It seems I'm also over that ghastly Chapter 16. I'm back to being content with the way the story is going.

It's a bit of a long chapter, but I couldn't find it in me to split it. I think it's still a quick read.

RATED M for language. I did some extensive research and I'll need to be told if what I found, as less than savory words, is accurate or not.

Reviews are always needed to motivate and educate.

Ruth and Harry are engaged… and Ruth is not pregnant.

**Chapter 17**

"Harry please get back in bed."

Harry is standing by the bed, totally oblivious of his fiancée, whose voice is directed at him once again.

"Harry... get back in bed"

Ruth is unmistakably annoyed. The man standing beside Harry requires his attention so he doesn't take notice that she's talking to him.

There's total chaos in the room. No one pays attention to her.

Catherine and Graham are on one side arguing.

"He's old enough to know what he needs."

"Oh you guys always stick together. He's not well." Catherine's hand is itching; she wants to slap both her brother and her father… just to put some sense into them.

The doctor, on the other side of the room, is trying to get a word out but Harry is not letting him.

Ruth voice rises ever so slightly. "For the love of God, Harry… will you get back in bed."

Still, all four people in the room are arguing and blessedly ignoring her. Her eyes starts glowering and her annoyance swells into full fledge anger, but it's not there yet. Her voice come out stronger this time, but it's nevertheless fairly controlled delivering the words once more.

"Harry get in the god damned bed." She's trying to keep her anger at bay… but she's losing the battle. She feels the hair on her neck and arms stand straight. Her body is tense and her mind is going on a search and destroy mission.

_Of all the stunts his has pulled… this is the end of the line. _Her eyes blazing with fury now, she raised her voice several degrees.

"Harry, get in the bloody bed or so help me, I'll throw you in it myself."

Catherine and Graham fall silent in an instant. Harry is still arguing with the doctor, not aware doom is coming his way.

Ruth loses it and yells. "HARRY! GET IN THE FUCKING BED – NOW!"

It gets Harry's attention. He turns to look at her. This is Enraged Ruth and he's not really happy to meet her for the first time. He's never seen her this furious. A quiver of fear goes through him. She seems to barely have a grip on her self-control.

He attempts to end the siege without bullets being fired.. "Ruth, my love…" and Harry puts on his best pout.

_Oops... big mistake_. He realizes too late.

Ruth raises her hand and points a finger at the man. She's fuming. "Oh no… you don't… HARRY PEARCE!" She roars at him. "GET… GET… GET IN THE MOTHERFUCKING BED, RIGHT NOW…"

She turns red either from anger or embarrassment at her choice of words, no one asks. She grabs hold of her anger and snarls at him. "You get in that bed or I swear I'll pull your arm until it comes off and I'll hit you over the head with the end that bleeds."

From their seats, Catherine and Graham look like they are about to break into applauds.

Harry is paralysed with shock. He's never heard her swear that much or use that particular American colloquial. He's also very impressed with the threat. Very colourful. Unfortunately, he hasn't moved yet.

"I said NOW HARRY… GET… IN… THE… BLOODY… GOD DAMNED… BED… NOW" She howls every single words emphatically.

The return of her less than quiet tone of voice makes Harry jump into action and he finally moves, as fast as his body allows him, to sit on the edge of the bed before gingerly lying down, nursing his wounded right arm and right leg.

Ruth is far from done. "You two." Pointing at Catherine and Graham. "You two sit down and stay quiet."

The young people do as they are told and sit, both wearing gleeful smile, knowing their father has met his match and is about to get it with both barrels. They find the whole situation very… entertaining.

Ruth turns to the doctor, who'd like nothing better than to get away from the screeching shrew, although he fears he might end up having to upgrade his patient's condition.

She takes a few deep breaths, trying to compose herself. Her next words come out in a somewhat controlled growl. "Doctor, could you please give us a few minutes. I need to talk to… to… this man..." She's looking for the right adjective, which boosts her tone... yet again. "To this… this… plonker… this… fuckwit" The volume of her voice is back a few octaves higher. The doctor doesn't need an invitation… he runs out of the room without a single word.

As the door closes, Ruth turns to the object of her fury. "Harry Pearce. Of all the bullshit you've pulled… this takes it all."

Harry thinks he might have a chance… "Ruth…" He's sorely mistaken.

She walks closer to the bed… maybe too close to the bed. Harry thinks the CIA interrogation technique is a walk in the park. Torture over angry Ruth any time.

She jabs a finger in his chest… hard. "You… shut… up… Harry. I'm so bloody pissed off with you."

A second finger is added to the first one. "Didn't I specifically ask you to be careful and not get hurt?"

"Ruth…"

"Didn't I?" She goes back to one finger poking at him. He's thankful for her consideration.

"Yes Ruth… you did." Harry looks at her… he feels strangely…

Another poke of her finger brings him back to her. "And didn't I ask you not to go in the field and get yourself killed."

"Yes you did, Ruth." Harry has never seen her more beautiful. Anger suits her.

"Didn't we discuss this subject and didn't we agree you'd stay away from the field with only one week to go."

"Yes Ruth… we did." Her eyes are sparkling, she exudes power and authority. She looks supremely dominating… which he never thought he would find so unbelievably attractive.

"And did you or did you not…" she flips her fingers up, one by one as she lists his injuries. "Break your ankle, sprain your wrist, bruise two ribs AND your kidneys… and God knows what else in a stake out operation, which turned into a hostage situation and a CO19 intervention."

"I did, Ruth" Harry answers her, calling upon every ounce of will he has within him not to smile. She's striking… magnificent… stunning... and she's definitely turning him on. He wants her so exceedingly much at this moment, that he doesn't care about the pain that would entail for his wounded body. He pulls the blanket over his lap, hiding his already sizable erection.

She recognize the glint in his eyes… she's seen it so many times already. She looks down on him, seeing the bump under the blanket. She puts her hand into a fist and waves it under his nose.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? ARE YOU BLOODY SUICIDAL? I'M SO MAD I CAN TASTE IT AND YOU'RE FUCKING TURNED ON. YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING. I CAN'T STAND LOOKING AT YOUR RIGHT NOW. BUGGER OFF HARRY! BUGGER THE FUCK OFF."

She pulls away from him, afraid of what she might do to him. She can't see clearly, she's so angry. She goes to the door and knocks her head against it, breathing deeply, trying to control herself... knocking her head against the door.

"I love him… I'm not going to hurt him… I love Harry… I love him with all my heart, even if I want to kill him… I love him."

Graham whispers in his sister's ears. "You've got to respect the man… I mean… it's not easy to achieve lift off under the circumstances.

Catherine turns her face to him and glares. Ruth's head snaps towards him and coldly stares at him. Graham squirm in his seat.

No one in the room dares say a word. They just give her the time she needs. Catherine and Graham are back to enjoying themselves. Fights were never this fun with their mother.

Harry is smiling at her back for a totally different set of reasons. _My God… I love her… She's glorious… _

After a few minutes, Ruth turns around again… her anger has subside and it's obvious she keeping a tight fist on it.

"You are not… and I mean it Harry… you are not to discharge yourself from this hospital. You will lie in this bed and stay put until you are completely... totally… healed. When the doctor discharges you… and no one else… You will come home and will not go to the grid until the doctor advises it. And if the week runs out before you can go back… though luck! Understood?"

"Yes, Ruth." He sticking to his answer, not wanting to gear her up again with the wrong words.

"Harry, when I got the phone call, it hurt so much, here." She puts her hand on her stomach… a belly ache of the wrong kind… She sees understanding in his eyes… and regrets. "I thought I had lost you. I felt my heart sink. I didn't know how to deal with this pain. Then I got angry and that I knew to deal with, I just let it take over and it felt good." She walks up to the side of the bed, taking his hand, her eyes getting lost in his_. _

_To think I could have lost him. No. I can't think about it._

She surrenders to him. She gives him a shy apologizing smile… full of her fears, her love and full of him. She melts in spite of her hammering heart, leaning over she kisses him tenderly. The nervousness he felt for the last few minutes now changes to elation.

_Thank God… She's forgiven me_. He couldn't be happier.

He needs to express how her words made him aware of how she felt. "I understand… I won't do it again… ever. I forgot how agonizing it was for me, every time you were threatened. I know how much it hurts, how long the minutes are. I never wanted to make you feel this way. I won't do it again. I promise."

"Oh… Harry…" He grins at her. She feels her anger taken away by his smile... _He's hurt, but alive and the doctor said it will be a full recovery_.

"I thought I had lost you. Please… I love you too much to lose you now…" He pulls on her hand to make her lean closer and hugs her to him before giving her a quick hard kiss.

Ruth stands up again, turns to Catherine and Graham obviously moved by the scene.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost it like I did. I'm really sorry for telling you to sit down and shut up." Ruth's face is blushing furiously.

The amusement is back. They look at one another sneering before looking at her again. Catherine beams at her step-mother. "No harm done Ruth. It was in fact very diverting. I can't say that I've often seen my Dad so docile…" Catherine giggles and points at her father. "Yes Ruth… Yes Ruth… that was priceless Dad…"

"Wait until I tell Malcom." Graham smirks at his father.

Harry turns several shades paler. "Graham, if you value your life, you will not repeat a single word of what happened here."

"He's right Graham." Says Ruth. "Wait for the transcript. I'll have copies for everyone."

Harry feels the blood dropping to his feet. "Ruth… You wouldn't."

She stares at him intently. "Revenge is a dish best served cold, mon Coeur."

############

For years later, this would be told, over and over, as the end of Harry Pearce's career. His last week on the job was in the Hospital and later recuperating at home. To Catherine and Graham credits, anyone, including every member of the team, visiting Harry during that week, is regaled with the story of how their boss' got the ass kicking of his life and how he bravely faced the firing squad, known as Ruth.

##########

Harry has been home for over a week and has thrived under his lover's care. His sprained and bruised body is healthy again, except for his ankle. He has to use crutches to move around and it frustrates him to no end. He had not made love to Ruth in over 11 days now, doctor's order because of the bruised ribs and kidneys. It's slowly killing him.

A whiff of her scent, her soft looks and her silky voice play havoc with his body. Her morning show is slowly driving him to the mad house. He knows this is his cross to bear as she is still pretty angry with him whenever her eyes stop on his leg enclosed in a cast.

"Ruth, honey." He calls her, sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Yes Harry?" She answers from the kitchen.

"Can we go for a drive?"

She walks in the room and stops facing him, her eyebrows lifted. "Bored Harry?"

"No… I'm not bored." He blushes from embarrassment but he won't admit his boredom.

"Because you know I would tell you - if you were bored, which you insist you are not - that it's your own blasted fault if you can't move around or do anything." She smirks at him.

"As I'm not bored, this is a moot point." He pouts.

"Indeed." She looks at him a grin on her lips.

"I want to go for a drive to look at houses. We have to start looking or we'll end up on the street. The realtor phoned me with another offer. That's the second one this week."

Ruth sits down by his side. "Any ideas?"

##########

After searching the internet, visiting houses and looking around different areas, they get the news that their only offer, the house they had visited on their 4th day of house hunting… the only house they really wanted is theirs. That night, they celebrate with a bottle of champagne. It has been 16 days since they have been intimate and Ruth tells him that the doctor lifted up the restriction as long as he doesn't exerts himself. She willingly does most of the work while he lies down venerating her in all her splendour.

Ruth wakes up slowly. She feels Harry's body against her back. Typically for them, they are spooned together, his arm holding her against him and predictably Harry has grabbed one of her breast in his sleep.

She slowly pulls out from his loving grip and gets up. He's beautiful when he sleeps. He has that boyish look and a faint smile spreads his lips. She exhales softly and leaves the room. No point in waking him up.

She goes down to the kitchen, makes herself a cup of tea that she takes back up. Moving into his office, she turns her laptop on and starts writing.

**_Dear Margot._**

**_Hope this email finds you well. I'm so glad to hear about your trip to Spain. I know how long you've wanted to go. I'll be so happy to have you over in two weeks' time. By the way… it's official, we are moving next month. We still have so much to do. We haven't started packing yet. That being said… if you can put up with the boxes and the chaos, you can stay overnight and I'll drive you to the airport the following day. I'm really looking forward to have you over. It will be great to spend the evening with you and Jonathan. I haven't seen him in ages. I believe the last time was 2 years ago… at Aunt Marjorie's 80th birthday. I can't believe how times flies._**

**_We found our house. I'm so excited. You won't believe how beautiful it is. The living room is enormous and bright, it has a little nook, big enough to put an arm-chair and a small table, surrounded on three walls with built-in bookshelves. The kitchen is amazing. It has plenty of cupboards and counter space. There's an island separating the cooking area from the dining area. Never seen a kitchen this spacious… we could sit 8 or 10 around the table… if we had a table for 8 or 10 people. Lol._**

**_The most amazing feature is the back wall. The whole thing is glass, two sets of double French doors that can be left open in the summer. It's like living outside… and it's so sunny Margot… it lifts your mood just to be in the room. It has a beautiful view on the backyard and the small river that runs at the end of it. The garden is fenced on both sides with fruit trees… We'll have apples, pears and prunes coming out of our ears._**

**_Do you have your mother's recipes for preserves? I remember she use to make jams and compotes she would over to our house. Remember her apricot cobbler? Now that I'm retired (it still feels so new to say I'm retired), I have time to experiment in cooking and baking. I'm actually thinking of picking up gardening as well. I'd like a small vegetable patch. I could pick up my own veggies from my own backyard. Wouldn't that be a hoot. :-)_**

**_On the first floor, aside from the kitchen and living room, there's a formal dining room and a laundry room. It has a washer and dryer, a toilet and a sink. Very convenient… and you should see the pantry… as big as the small room in my flat and covered with shelves. There a few boxes of empty jars that were left there… which is what gave me the idea for the preserves._**

**_There are three bedrooms on the second floor. Harry and I want to turn the middle room into an office that we'd share. It's big enough to put two desks facing one another, a sofa and I'm thinking two bookshelves on each side of one of the larger window. The other spare room would be for guests. So you know there's a room for you when you come and visit. The master is huge… it must have been two rooms at one point. It has its own ensuite and a large closet. You should see the bath… It's a master piece! A very big master piece! :-O There's another full bathroom on the floor and that's pretty much the second floor._**

**_The backyard is somewhat of a blank canvas… there are a few flower beds, but not very inspired. Right outside the kitchen doors, there's a patio where, I'm sure, we'll enjoy most of our meals in the summertime. There's also a strange-looking barbecue. It's built of bricks and it has a large hole in the bottom front for wood, but you can also put charcoal under the grill to barbecue. I didn't really look at it. But it seems like a pretty technical contraption to me. From the look on his face, I don't think Harry had ever seen a barbecue as big and as elaborate before. He looked so adorable studying it._**

**_Oh… and you should hear the silence… duh! ;-) It's so quiet… the only noises are from birds and the wind in the trees. I love it and so does Harry. We both fell head over heels with the place. We saw it and we knew we had to make an offer… so we did and we found out last night that our offer has been accepted. We are so happy Margot. As soon as we're moved in, you have to come and visit. I'll need your help decorating the place. You've done wonders with yours. It's funny, I've never really been into decorating before… but with all the free time I have from not working 14 hours days… I'm thinking about all these things I thought were trivial and I want to try them. The house has such potential. I want to turn it into a home… something that reflects Harry and me, that is welcoming and warm… I don't want posh or stuffy, just a comfortable happy place._**

Ruth hears Harry's come into the room. He's not so stealthy these days… with the crutches hitting the wood floor; he would make for a pretty noisy spook.

**_I have to end this email here. Harry just woke up and with the crutches, he not so agile around the kitchen. I'm going to go down and make breakfast. I'll write to you again in a few days._**

**_Take care of yourself dear and if you could come a bit earlier, on your way to Spain, we could go shopping or have coffee and leave the men to fend for themselves. Think about it._**

**_TTFN_**

**_Ruth._**

She clicks on the send button and closes the email software. Harry stops behind her. He leans over to kiss her neck, his arms snaking around her waist.

"Hum… you smell of fresh air, flowers and orange blossom. Love the way you smell." He kisses the other side of her neck and whispers. "It turns me on…"

Ruth chuckles a little and slants her head to the side to allow his lips to travel further on her neck. "Harry, you've already proven that everything turns you on. I don't think you have an off switch, mon Coeur."

She hears him laugh softly. "How's your cousin?"

"She's great… Jonathan and she are going to Spain next month. I'm telling her about the house." She stands up and puts her arms around him, resting her head against his chest, He smells wonderful.

_Eau de Harry by Harry_.

"I'm looking forward to moving in and putting our touch to it." He kisses the top of her head, comforted in the feel of her body.

"You think we are doing the right thing." She kisses the skin right below his neck, where his chest begins.

"Of course I do. It's our own personal paradise. Don't you love it?" He pulls away to look into her face, lightly apprehensive.

"No that, mon coeur… I mean paying it cash, no mortgage. It's a pretty big chunk of our savings."

"The accountant is categorical, this is what's best to do and I think it's more convenient that way." He picks her hand and brings to his lips for a kiss.

"How so?" Ruth's eyes are telling him she's not entirely focused on the conversation.

"With all our savings and the sales of the three houses between the two of us, we can afford to pay it cash. Imagine all the money we will save on interest. That's a pretty load. With our pensions and what's left of our savings, we can plan for travels or changes we want to make, without even thinking about paying for the house itself." He completes his statement by taking her fingers in his mouth and gently bites them… one at a time.

"You're right… I'm just nervous. It's a dream house… and I always get nervous when my dreams come true. I always expect the other shoe to drop." She's getting more and more distracted… She wraps herself closely against his chest.

"So you were nervous when I came into your life…" His eyes are shining with arousal.

"Like you wouldn't believe. Don't you remember our first date, the way I tortured that napkin. I was terrified… I wanted you to love me and I was sure you wouldn't, while here you were, across from me, looking all debonair and at ease." She loves when they are like that… Slowly rousing to the need to join.

"And hiding the same exact feelings and fears you had. It took me a while to realize I was in love with you, but from the very first day, I didn't want to be without you, I needed you in my life."

He breathes against her forehead, his lips brushing against her skin. He moves down to her mouth and she feels the exultation he has from simply kissing her. She left drowning in his love for her.

"Oh… Harry. You infuriate me like no one else sometimes, but you're also such a sweet, adorable and romantic man... I love you to distraction Harry Pearce…"

He runs his hand across her face… gently… lovingly… his eyebrows lifted. "Belly ache?"

"I belly ache love you, mon coeur."

Her mouth lifts to his and she kisses him, letting her tongue slide along his lower lip, feeling the warmth of his mouth, her tongue duelling with his. Harry takes over the kiss, possessing her with his mouth, crushing her against his body, his hand roaming on her back, her side, grabbing her hips between his hand and pulling her against his hardness and she moves her hips in sync with his movement, showing him that she wants him.

The kiss leaves him trembling and reeling under the wave of hunger he has for her. He curses the crutches and his lack of equilibrium…

"I want you Ruth… you have no idea how much I want to be inside of you right now." He takes her hand to the front of his pant to let her feel the bulge.

"Probably close to how much I want you inside me." She caresses his length growing harder under her fingers.

"And I want you to stretch when I am…" His hands are on her breasts, playing with her nipples.

She has a quizzical look her face "Stretch?"

"Yes… you know when you wake up and you stretch… that long, painfully slow stretch… I want to feel it from inside you when you do that." He tries to move his hand between her legs to support his words, but he can't reach without letting go of his crutches.

_Damn._

"I'm shocked! Shocked and interested… How long have you been stalking me while I sleep?" Ruth's hand sneaks under the waistband of his pyjamas pants.

"Since the first day we woke up in the same bed." You have no idea how erotic you are when you wake up... I missed it this morning." He wants to pout to make his point, but instead a moan escape his lips and he softly bites her mouth in a melting kiss.

"You are strange man. You always surprise me somehow. But I love you the way you are… you are mine… my Happy Harry." She starts walking towards their bedroom, beckoning him, waving her index at him. That's more encouragement than he needs. He follows her with a teeth showing smile.

"Here's another surprise for you then. "How would you feel about getting married at our house?"

The look of astonishment that shows on her face is enough answer for him.

"Should we retire to our bedroom for a committee session and reopen item 5 for discussion?"


	18. Chapter 18

_**M RATED**_

_**At first this chapter was going to be just a conversation, but it got away from me and is now M rated. CONSIDER YOURSELF PROPERLY WARNED!**_

_**I don't know what it is with these two… they want to have sex all the time. I'd say it's probably years of pent up frustration.**_

_**Sorry for the delay… I came back yesterday from 10 glorious days on a beach under a beautiful shinning sun with 90 degrees temperature. It was a last minute thing so couldn't post Chapter 18 and explain there was going to be a delay. Hope you enjoy this one.**_

_**Reviews are the blood life of fan fiction writers. So if you have a minute or two… please leave one.**_

_**Ruth and Harry just got engaged, found the house of their dreams and are preparing to move. **_

**Chapter 18**

"Harry?" Ruth is sitting in bed trying to read.

"Hmm." Harry is also sitting in bed reading. His cast is propped on a pillow and he's only wearing white boxer shorts, tight white boxer short. She's distracted from her book and thoroughly enjoying the view as she appreciates his choice of underwear. They make him look scrumptious, his crotch very appealing and, from seeing him in them before, she remembers his backside looking ridiculously good in them.

Right now, lying relaxed on top of the duvet, he is very distracting, but she needs to grill him before she allows herself any distractions.

"Harry?" She puts her book on her night table. "Remember our engagement party?"

"Of course I do, it was only a few days ago." He keeps on reading his book.

"You asked me if I was pregnant and when I answered I wasn't, you looked relieved." She's got his attention now. His eyes leave his book to move to the ceiling.

_Hell Bells… She caught that. I shouldn't be surprise... Her job is to see things nobody else does and she's brilliant at her job._ "Yes." He says in a constraint tone.

"So you were relieved?" Ruth's isn't entirely sure about wanting the answer to her question.

Harry doesn't answer her right away. He opens the drawer of his bedside table, takes out a pad, a pen and puts them on her lap. She looks at him puzzled.

"I don't know if you've notice, Love, but we've never been really good at communicating."

She smirks at him. _No shit, Sherlock. It took us ten years and me dying to get here._

Harry is still speaking. "We wasted so many years not saying what we meant, not finding the right time or the right words… stuttering is an Olympic sport with us. But I've notice that if we put things in order, make lists… it works rather well. Why change something that works."

She gives him a look of total adoration combined with an evident doubt of his mental state.

"Harry… you're bonkers. We can't decide our life with lists."

"You forget love, we already did and rather well if I may say. We're up to 18 points now." Thinking about getting this conversation back on track he repeats her question. "So was I relieved you weren't pregnant?"

Harry's smile illuminates his face when he sees her take the pad and pen in her hand, confirming what he just said and she denied. He knows from work, that pen and paper for her are needed accessories when she's nervous or uncertain. They make her feel grounded. Harry pulls himself a little higher against the pillow behind his back, sitting straighter.

"Honestly… I was." Harry hesitates as he doesn't know how she'll react. "First, it's a bit early for babies." He lowers his head totally absorbed by the book on his lap. "But it's more than that. If you were to be pregnant, right now… I'd be 67 when he's 12. How am I supposed to teach him to play rugby or criquet when I'm too old to run? I'll be 75 when he's 20. I'll probably never meet his wife; I'll never be a grandfather to his kids."

His anxiety shows and it breaks her heart. _Could I ignore his doubts or my desire of having his child?_

Harry is talking again. "Ruth, if we have a baby, I'll have to deal with strangers telling me what an adorable grandchild I have. Won't he be angry or resentful when he's older and has to correct people in the same way? Isn't it selfish at my age to want a child?"

"But Harry…" He didn't let her continue.

"I'm also scared for you... what you went through… you died Ruth, from a collapsed lung. It might put you in danger if you were to become pregnant." He hesitates but finds the courage to admit his deepest feelings. "The chances that I'll die before you do are more than probable. You'll have to raise that child on your own… but what if, God forbids, you die before I do, before he's grown up. Will I physically fit to raise a child on my own. What if I'm sick and you have to take care of both me and a child." She could hear the anxiety in his voice as his breathing got a little faster.

He keeps on talking. "I know I'm being a selfish bastard, but more than anything I'd like to enjoy the time we have together for a little longer, to love you and be with you. Just you and I."

Ruth has had her own doubt about having a child. She'd be 42 by the time he's born. Thinking about the night feeding, diaper changes, running after a crawling baby or a toddler… she's exhausted just thinking about it. Could she physically do it? Years of stress, lack of sleep, long days have left her so tired.

Harry spoke again. "In the end, what scares me the most is that you may resent me if I don't give you a chance at motherhood."

_Oh Harry… my dear sweet love._ She kneels on the bed and straddling him she takes him in her arms, hugging him tightly against her body. She kisses his forehead, caressing his face with her hands.

"Harry, you have to believe me when I say that I'll never resent you." She gently took his face between her hands, plunging her eyes into his before she softly expresses how she feels. "Harry… you are not the only one with doubts. We just found one another. Am I selfish to want to go on the Grand Tour with you or to enjoy weekends making love anytime and anywhere in the house? Am I being egotistic to want to love you, just you?"

Thoughts were going through her mind, secret thoughts she had to tell him. They had promised no more secrets.

"Harry, I've waited for you all of my life and now that I have you, I want you all to myself. You are mine as I am yours. Does it make me a horrible human being to not want to share you… even with my own child?"

Harry holds her in his arms, kissing her neck. She feels safe telling him her most intimate thoughts; he is her harbour, her soft landing. Could she live the rest of her life without having a child with him… without resenting him or regret the choice she makes now? She lifts her head from the crook of his neck and looks into his eyes.

"What do we do Harry?"

"What do you want to do, Love?" Harry is holding her hand, gently rubbing his thumb over her knuckles in a reassuring gesture. "Whatever you want, I'll give you."

"No Harry, I must know what you want, truthfully, independently of me."

Harry doesn't know what to answer. No secrets. No lies. They promised each other. What if the truth makes her love him less?

"I'd choose not to have a child and would push my children for grandkids." He tries to lighten the mood with humour.

Ruth let out a sigh of relief. He told her what he felt, not what he thought she wanted to hear.

"Harry, in all honesty, I would love to have a child with you… but not now. It's too early. I want to get married, go on a honeymoon and make a home with you. I can't picture myself doing that with a baby on my hip. I'd like to be able to revisit the subject in a year or two, but by then it'll be too late to have one. So I guess it's no baby for me." Saying the words, she didn't feel as sad as she had expected.

"Ruth… are you sure?"

"I'm sure Harry." She moved off of him, back to her side of the bed sitting. She takes the pen and paper and concentrate on the white page. She seems to be fighting with her thoughts. He can read her better than anyone and he sees she decides to bite the bullet. "Harry I'm not sure that I actually want a child." Finally, she says out loud what she couldn't even admit to herself throughout her adult years.

He looks at her with surprise painted on his face.

"What if I'm in love with the idea of having a baby and not the fact itself? You know, to want a baby because that's what I'm supposed to want as a woman? Because to want one would be the normal thing to want. To not want one would say I'm not maternal… not normal."

She still stares at the pad in her hand; she doesn't look at him afraid of seeing judgement on his face. He gently puts a finger under her chin and makes her look at him. She does and sees the gentlest smile, his eyes deep pools of love for her.

"Oh, my Ruth. You are such a wonder to me. Your honesty is such a gift. I love you even more for not hiding how you feel, for telling me this secret. It means more than you'll ever know. You came into my life and pulled me away from the darkness, surrounding me with light. I love you."

"I love you, mon Coeur. You are my light." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, playing with the soft strand of his hair in the back of his neck.

"So, we made our decision. No babies?" She asks hesitant.

Harry kissed her softly. "No babies."

"You know that means no sex tonight my love."

Harry pulled away a little, confused. "No sex…"

"If I'm not mistaken, there is not a single condom in this house and I'm not on the pill, which means no sex if we don't want babies." She smiles at him, but he also sees disappointment in her eyes. Harry's face wears a smug expression. She frets over the thought of not having sex and that makes him delightfully happy.

He starts moving on the bed, trying to lift his butt, one cheek at the time, in order to lower his boxer short as far as he can manage, moving is good leg out of them while the short is stuck on his calf because of the cast on his ankle. She looks at him, knowing where he's going but wondering why…

He starts undressing her, taking off her camisole and her knickers. She slaps his hand playfully. "Harry, I said no condoms, no pills, no babies, hence no sex."

He moves her onto his lap, kissing her lips in a tantalizing kiss, before lying down again.

"It only means no intercourse beloved. You and I have had fun without intercourse. Months of incredible, unadulterated and very satisfying fun."

The smile now reaches her eyes and turns mischievous. "Hum. If I have to, I could settle for it. I didn't think of it. I must have forgotten about it, you'll need to refresh my memory." Still straddling him, she lets her hands fall to his chest caressing him, arousing him with her hands, moving her hips slowly against his growing erection.

"What can I say… you're a little slow and need to be reminded again and again and…"

She ends his sentence for him. "And again. It's a taxing job but someone has to do it and it seems you're up for it." She rubs herself over his length wetting the soft skin, brushing her clitoris against it. Both their breathing becomes shallow and they capture each other's moan in lips grazing, tongue twisting and teeth nibbling kisses.

His hand on her hips, he pushes her down against his crotch, moving in counter point to her. He's already hard but he doesn't want to rush things… he wants to enjoy this slowly… he wants to tease her until she begs. She's so very good at begging… so is he for that matter. She's proven that.

He sits up, putting his arms around her, he kisses her neck, his lips running from one side to the other, licking and gently biting her earlobes along the way.

"I'm all about fulfilling my duty…." His voice is muffled as his face, now between her breasts, is kissing the sides and nuzzling her skin, basking in her fragrance always stronger on that part of her body. He licks her nipples and gently grazes his teeth over them. She looks at his tongue darting against her hardening nubs and it turns her on to no end. Nothing's more erotic than his tongue or his mouth on her body.

His hands are running on her back, dancing on her skin and making her shiver. He is still amazed at how responsive she is to his touch; the tension rising in her body, the goose bumps on her arms, the muscles of her stomach tightening, the wetness against his hardness… all signs of her arousal he relishes.

He wants her all the time... Now. He's never felt desire like this… He had wanted Jane when he was young, had lusted for other women… but nothing like this overpowering longing… this hunger for her body. It feels like a blood boiling addiction, a craving deep in his body and his soul, as if he could only find pleasure and fulfillment from hers.

Harry can't wait any longer and moves inside her, deep inside. He moans and so does she. She closes her eyes and leans backward, her hands on his thighs for balance, savouring the feeling of his length inside her, the way he stretches her. He stays sheathed inside her, not moving.

"You feel so good… just being inside me. It's ecstasy and agony rolled together."

He's mesmerised by her. She's so incredibly beautiful to him, she has the type of beauty that would start wars. Nothing compares to witnessing the exaltation on her face, the way her mouth opens to allow little sounds of pleasure, her skin flushed, her nipples jutted. She's sex incarnate, the embodiment of sensuality and passion.

"So beautiful, my love. You're never more beautiful than when we make love."

She leans forward and puts her hand on his chest to start moving… up and down, sideways… slowly… so very slowly.

He sits up again, embracing her, he leans his cheek against her chest, feeling her move against him.

"I love you Ruth. I love you…"

She doesn't hear him, lost inside herself, the pleasure building and swelling in her body. She can feel the muscles in her legs tightened and her stomach aches. The climbing is slow… too slow. Her body demands the fall it know will follow. She feels him growing, hardening and pulsating inside her. She moans incapable of keeping the sounds inside. As the pleasure builds so are the sounds.

Her throaty cries are his undoing; he lies down again and starts moving with her. Their yearning is as old as time itself as they move to an unbending rhythm. He feels her clamp around him and he knows she's close. One of his hand moves down between her leg to massage her clitoris with the pad of his thumb while his other hand moves to knead her breasts firmly, to pinch and tweak her nipples between his fingers just hard enough so she reaches her climax.

She shouts his name, her love for him. Her entire body is shaking and she loses her cadence as she breaks in a dazzling orgasm. She's falling, aftershocks going through her as her body crashes under waves of pleasure.

Harry is trapped, her inner muscles holding him. He moves inside her and yet only the skin covering his shaft does, so tight is her grip on him. He's literally imprisoned inside her. He's standing on the fine line between pain and pleasure. It's exquisite, it's intense and it's excruciatingly… orgasmic. Harry pushes once more, twice and follows her, her name on his lips, his eyes still fixated on her. He feels his orgasm take over, winding his body, straining every nerves, his penis twitching still embedded in her. Embracing the release, tremors jolting through him before his body cracks into pieces and unwinds slowly. He hums as his body stills, too heavy to move. She falls on top of him, her head in the crook of his neck, he feels her lips kiss his chest.

"Hum…" Ruth's hand plays with the hair on his chest.

"You're ok love" He takes her hand in his.

"Ok doesn't cover it, mon Coeur. I'm so… so…"

"I know, love. I am too." He closes his eyes. Nothing he'd like more right now then a nap with his body blanketed with hers while he's still inside her. Suddenly, his feeling of utter relaxation is disturbed with a thought that makes him tense under her. She lifts her head and looks at his frowning face.

"I'm so sorry love. I forgot. That's why we need lists… we should have written it down." She can see distress on his face.

"What's wrong Harry?"

"I'm such a bastard… I wasn't thinking, Ruth. I swear I didn't do it on purpose." Harry wears a worried and apologetic look.

"Harry… talk to me. What's wrong? It was wonderful, I swear…"

"No love, it's not that… Remember, no condoms, no pills… no babies."

Ruth sits back up, shock on her face. "I totally forgot. How could I. I should have stopped you. I just didn't think."

Harry gives her a sheepish look. "I know. I didn't think either, but I should have."

"No more you than I. We are both idiots." She pokes a finger at his check. "I'm getting a doctor's appointment as soon as possible. In the meantime… condoms are mandatory."

Harry smiles at her. "And we amend number 14 on the list, that way we might remember. You know… if it's written black on white."

Ruth moves back against his chest, the tip of her finger writing nonsense on his skin. "What about now… what if I get pregnant. Should I get the morning after pill or just…"

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know Harry. I'm torn. The idea of being pregnant is really tempting, but then the reality of a baby is not so much. I love the concept, not the application. I want it but I don't… What about you?"

He smiles but with her head lying on his chest she can't see it.

_Concept and application. Only she would talk about having a child in that way. God I love her. _

He hugs her tightly as if trying to make her body fuse with his. She doesn't complain and just wait for his arms to ease around her. She knows that hug. She's given that 'I love you so much words can't express it' hug.

After a moment, she hears Harry voice again. "The more I think about it, the less I'm sure. I don't want to keep you from being a mother. I already have two children, you don't. But I'm blown by the thought of having a child with you, created out of love, your body swollen and ripened with new life, nothing would make me happier." She lifts her head to look at him. A smile appears on his face, one she'd never seen before, soft, tender and shy, as if afraid to believe…

Harry being Harry, she sees his expression change. He's come to a solution. "You're going to say I'm crazy."

"It wouldn't be the first time… mon Coeur."

Harry pushes the words out. "I'd say let's use it as a sign. You don't know, I'm not sure. If we conceived today it will be a sign that we are supposed to have a child, if you don't get pregnant, then it's a sign we weren't supposed to."

"You ARE crazy, mon Coeur… always the risk taker. Strangely, I'm ok with that… It would be like confirming our decision… one way or the other."

She puts her hand on his cheeks and looks right into his eyes. "But only this once. Today we are going out and getting a large supply of condoms… we'll put a box in every room to make sure we use them every time. No more risk taking. Agreed?"

"Agreed."


End file.
